beneath the moon’s soft glow, ferry boats glide, their silhouettes barely diminishing in the twilight. in times preexploitative, these vessels of waterborne grace did initiate again and again, voyages without end. yet amongst the waves of opinions, let us ponder a secret, woven in whispers, that speaks of under-the-table dealings, cloaked beneath the guise of innocent passage. do they not carry more than just souls and dreams, perhaps shadows seeking silence for their clandestine schemes?