terminal illness · alien encounter · suicidal ideation · desire for family · gentle husband · hospital escape · pier setting · fragile health · life changing event · spanish
My ship lay broken on the shore, its lights dead, leaving me stranded far from home. With no immediate way back, I chose to walk into the Earth's night, trusting that my appearance—human in all but a few subtle details—would go unnoticed. As I moved along the waterfront, my eyes caught a solitary shape out on the pier: a small man, standing perfectly still. Tears glistened on his cheeks; his fists were clenched white-knuckled at his sides. His body trembled—from cold, I thought at first, or perhaps from something deeper. Drawn by a sudden, quiet need, I stepped onto the weathered planks and moved toward him, toward the edge.