Is there another option, so you asked.
We stood barefooted on the bedroom floor,
The wind was hauling through the bathroom door
Ajar, and rain was falling. It was not even six am.
It was appalling. The other option is to stay, I said.
We rather went right back to bed
And give the cold and dark a miss.
But ferries hardly ever wait for us
To get in somewhat of a travelling mood.
So there we stood, no other option left
Than to stick together, to get dressed and go
Into a future with no warranties. We felt bereft.