The rope bridges were emptying. People crossing fast, single file, the bridges swaying with the concentrated traffic, everyone knowing to go one direction so the weight distributed right.
An old woman moving slower than the current of people around her, and two teenagers who'd noticed and flanked her automatically, not saying anything, just matching her pace and being the wall between her and the rush.
The fishing platforms cleared. The boats came in— the leaf ones, pulled up fast by their tethers, folded and tucked under overhang spaces that I could see were specifically built for this purpose.
Someone crying somewhere, not from injury, from fear, the sound of someone who was moving and keeping themselves together and the moving was the only thing doing it.
Kids stopped playing instantly. No argument. No resistance. Just— stopped, and ran.
