It held not of the romance of the others, this was not of any historic value, this was not weathered timbers, slowly worn done by the sea, it was harder to imagine the romance, think of the begone couples that had walked it's boards, impossible to conjure up a love story from 80 years ago, of love built in letters and absences, hard to imagine the ships docked, bringing supplies in a time of no road, or a time before cards.
No this was a functional structure engineered in stainless steel, laughing at the corrosive power of salt water, there has been a cost benefit analysis of this pier, it makes sense, perfect economic sense. The ships that dock at this aren't essential, they are jet skis of middle class, motorbikes of water, status symbols, they serve no purpose. The love, it is not epic, it is the stuff of right swipes, of ill spelt text messages fired back and forth with little thought and no remembrance.
This is not like the others
