The Mythical River Beast

I watched it emerge from out of the fog, monumental in size, a sheer cliff face of steel moving pass me, almost quieter than my breath but for a whispered wake running from its bow. Something this big should have made more noise. A black hull bore scars of scrapings and rust bleeding out of fissures along its length. The fog seemed to oil its way, its shape looming large then slowly growing smaller as it slid down river until it dimmed and disappeared. In that moment its passage was a mystery, a brief apparition of something beyond the dimension of ordinary things. The quiet of its passing, the dark bulk and beauty of its presence was magnificent and overpowering. It was like a shadow cast by a mythical beast coalescing out of history, infiltrating the mind then dissolving once more into a place somewhere hidden in its magical past, suddenly brought back to this world with its registered port written in rusty lettering on its stern - MONROVIA