The whisper drowned, willingly, in the demitasse of half
sipped espresso. Next to the large window overlooking the port, she curled back
in bed after smoking her first cigarette on the bedroom balcony. Now it was time to listen to the loons. Their call seemed to bounce irregularly on
the hull of the sailboats, hibernating already in the harbor, away from the
salt of the ocean.
Holding the demitasse in both palms, she pushed her bare
feet under the belly of the dog sleeping at the bottom of the bed. He opened one eye, sniffed her toes, and
yawned. Then went back to the shuteye
posture hoping that if he does not see her she will not see him either and let
him sleep on the bed a bit longer.
On the East horizon, right behind the Domino’s Sugar
factory, the sky was turning pink.
Sunrise will be spectacular today, as the slight fog covering the
surface of the harbor waters will reflect the colors differently than the water
itself. A pink and blue sunrise, watched
with the morning espresso already sipped and warm toes, under the hairy dog.
A tugboat passed slowly a few hundred yards away from the
balcony, where she is now holding a second cup of espresso, with toasted fig
bread. The dog is still in bed, looking
at her with the growing anticipation of his morning walk. Yet he knows the routine and will wait till
she brushes her teeth for the second time, puts on a hooded sweater and calls
him “lazy bum, time to go out!”
The sun rose and burned the pink into a gray. She could hear an ambulance in the distance,
confirming that the ocean touches the city as much as the city lives by the
ocean. Baltimore is a port, no matter
how many glass-faced high buildings are now chiseling its skyline. And there are no ports without sailors, or
sailors without stories about other ports.
And Baltimore is a place where stories take shape around a cup of
coffee, a dish of crab cakes, or while toasting to the success of its beloved
Ravens.
And it is great to be part of every morning, when the loons
call between two dives, and the sky turns pink on the East horizon, fore-calling
sunrise.
©Vahé Kazandjian, 2013
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