Pier

Long ago, far away … I looked down at her from the pier. She wore a short skirt and lipstick. She teetered on the gunwale of the launch, unable to gain the pier from the unsteady boat on which she balanced herself. She was no seafarer. Probably visited some sailor on a ship. No one else offered, so I reached down, gripped her hand firmly, and raised her to the pier. She said something kind to me in a language I did not understand. She turned, and was gone. A man near me, whoever he may have been, nodded to me.