That Stretch of Water Just Out of Reach, Like Missing the Last Bus

Soft morning light falls across a calm harbour, seen from the side as a wooden pier stretches out into the water. Right at the pier's end, a traveler stands with a suitcase in one hand, the other arm stretched out across the water toward a small passenger boat. That boat has already pulled away from the dock - a clean strip of open water now separates its hull from the pier's edge, wide enough that no single step could close it. Disappointment shapes the traveler's posture: shoulders dropped, head turned to follow the boat, the reaching hand left hanging over empty water. No boarding plank remains on the boat's deck, and it keeps moving steadily away, a small wake trailing behind to confirm the departure is already underway. Morning light lies gently across the harbour, catching ripples in the gap between pier and boat and warming the weathered planks underfoot, a pale unlettered waterfront and low hills rising behind. Hold the traveler, the pier's end and the departing boat inside a wide 16:9 frame with clear margin on every side, the whole scene left unlettered with no text anywhere.