“Cold Touches”

The sunlight is low in the sky and casts a warm glow over the city. In the distance, one can see the port, with ships coming and going. The docks are busy with people unloading cargo… There is always someone in here, and the noise from the nearby factories never stops. I know because I am a marine engineer working at this port.

I was always interested in ships and the sea. When I was younger, I would watch documentaries on ocean-related topics and dream of being a captain of a ship. Then, as I grew up, I started searching online about the industry and realized that being an engineer was a better career path for me. I suppose, I just like being that person lurking in the shadows who always makes sure that everything works well; having a job that would require me to take the central place is definitely not for me...

After I graduated from my marine engineering program, I started working for a shipping company. My workday starts at 6 am. I work on the docks, which is a noisy, dirty, and dangerous environment. I have to be there before the sun rises, to inspect all the equipment and make sure everything is in good working order. Every single day, I have to be very careful when working with equipment and machinery because of the risk of accidents. I need to wear protective clothing and gear to avoid injury...

Working here is a rather physically demanding job, one that requires me to be on my feet all day. It can be monotonous and difficult to stay focused on my tasks, but I work with all kinds of cargo, and help sea transport happen, which makes me feel good. I am passionate about what I do, and time flies fast. There’s no other place I’d rather be, really...

I often stay up late and today is no exception; I get off work after 10 pm. The port is eerily quiet at this time, with only a few ships docked. The warehouse lights are still on though, the third shift has recently started work.

I adjust my cap and leave the port area. The wind whips through the narrow, winding streets, carrying with it the pungent smell of salt and fish. The sky is a dark slate color, and the wind blows quite intensely. I can’t wait to get home, wash off the day, and finally eat something warm, even if it’s just a bowl of canned soup heated up in the microwave.

When I step into my apartment, it’s as dark and silent as a crypt... The only noise is the sound of my breath, and the only light is coming from the streetlights outside. This place is quite old… , almost as if it’s seen a lot of people come and go. It’s quite lukewarm here; we have central heating, but it doesn’t work that well, and the heaters are tepid most of the time.

The first thing that I do after taking off my shoes and jacket is to go soak up in a hot bath. It feels wonderful; it makes me feel relaxed and alive again… One of the pros of living all alone is that you get to bathe as long as you like.

After warming up in the bath, I eat supper and recline in front of my old TV. I’m not a fan of watching programs broadcast at this hour, but right now, I’m too tired to do anything else…

Suddenly, the power goes out, and if I have to be completely honest, I’m not even feeling sorry about it. I just get up and go to my bedroom. Once there,

I turn on the lights, which expose all of the room’s flaws. The paint peels off the wall in one place, and the furniture requires updating; it’s been here for at least thirty years... Perhaps the landlord will take care of it in the summer. Right now, he seems busy looking for another tenement. “This can make my profits bigger and your rent cheaper,” he told me, almost as if he was offering a win-win solution. I nodded in agreement but didn’t fancy the idea of living with someone else...

*

The first time I see my roommate is two weeks later. It’s a foggy night, and I come home from a long day at work, freezing from cold and dying from hunger.

I figure I will take a hot shower this time to eat something faster. I quickly kick away my dirty shoes and hang jacket and walk out of the corridor. I have to pass through the living room to get to the bathroom, and I almost get a heart attack, seeing a mysterious man sitting on the couch.

He has a black hoodie on, with the hood pulled up over his head. Sensing my presence, he looks at me with a pervasive blue gaze and then gets up and silently walks out of the room. I think that it’s strange that he didn’t even say hello, and so I walk after him, hoping he’s not a thief. But then again, it’s not like there are any valuable things here...

“Who are you?” I ask eventually.

“Me? Your roommate, of course,” he replies, then takes his hand off his hoodie’s pocket. “Kris. Nice to meet you.”

“Galen, nice to meet you too,” I reply, but don’t shake his hand. “I’m sorry… I’ve just returned from the docks.”

“No hard feelings,” he shrugs, taking his hand away.

Later, I really regret not having shaken his hand. The next chance shows up so late it’s almost awkward to bring up the topic. Days pass, and I barely see him around due to opposing schedules. As a result, I don’t get a chance to get to know him. I don’t know his age, where he’s from, what job he does, or anything else...

And when we finally brush shoulders again, he doesn’t tell me anything substantial, either. Honestly, I only ever see his silhouette moving around in the darkness of the night…