The Sky

The sky here is a strange color. It's not the bright blue that I'm used to. It's a milky kind of cornflower, like the ice has moved to the sky. The water is a deep royal that seems to steal the magic from the cloudless expanse above it. The ferries plough through, startling in their contrast, like the dangerous yellow of a hornet's ass. The tourist boats are needlefish: thin, flat, and translucent.