The ferry came at seven in the morning and five in the evening....

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2026-05-31 11:41:21 -

The ferry came at seven in the morning and five in the evening. That was the rhythm of Cuyahoga Island. Two crossings a day, every day, rain or shine or the kind of fog that turned the world grey and the men on board into ghosts.

I'd been coming back and forth for two months. Seven in the morning, five in the evening. Seven in the morning, five in the evening. The schedule was the same as my medication times, same as my group therapy hours, same as the shape of my days—repeating, predictable, and going absolutely nowhere. Lakeview Recovery sat on the western end of the island like a broken tooth, all brick and broken...

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