When I was a little younger than you, I never wanted children. The crying! The soured-milk smell. And oh! Never being able to finish a sentence with my friends before a little one would yell, “Momma.” Not to mention getting fat. I don’t think I was exactly selfish; instead, I was gonna be a model.

The Canada geese, emboldened by their sheer numbers, increased their territorialism. Competing with the local raccoons, they looted and toppled trash cans in the park and surrounding neighborhood.

Janie’s first thought was to have security call the cops. Then she realized this may be a way out of being a scribe, an indentured servant.  She would be able to follow her passion, her dream of being a novelist, immersed in literature and chess.

At the bar, she ordered a lager called “If It Ain’t Fixed, Don’t Break It.” Clean and clear as your last drug test. Staring at her phone or checking the door, she feigned expecting someone any minute. She wandered, gazing at the merchandise display along the back wall: logoed T-shirts, pint glasses, and growlers. A man about her age (she smiled to herself; she still passed for under thirty) with shaggy black hair and a black Labrador retriever eased away from the bar, an opaque yellow pint in one hand, his dog’s leash in the other.

As she slowly progresses in the pat-down line, some protestors off to June’s right get her attention.  Most of them silently loft their signs – “A Lying Danger to Democracy,” “Lock him up!”  “A Pig’s Pig,” “Liar, Loser, Crook” – while a few yell what is on theirs.  Two men in line just ahead of June bellow back in unison to the yellers, “Woke-ass shitbirds!”

They pitched and swayed for an hour before they were picked up by the Moby Blu, another nearby ferry. The Italian-speaking purser was confused when they boarded. He assumed they were a couple and temporarily housed them in the same cabin. They protested at first, but the hot shower, dry clothes, and warm food brought by the steward overcame their awkwardness in the small stateroom.

It’s always the end of days in Florida. I lived abroad since I was sixteen, washing up in different ports across the globe until I found my way back with Jeremiah. Don’t let the bright sunlight in January fool you; in Florida it is always Apocalypse pretty soon. This is where the final seals will be broken. Damn straight.

I watched. It didn’t take long. His back contracted into an arc that left the sofa and he let out a sound, half groan half shriek that went on and on. I almost got up but then it died out. Not the spasm though, which took many minutes to release his back to the sofa again.

Even though we live in a city, Lee’s warmth makes it feel like a village somehow. In a village, there would be less of a class divide. Lee might be the checkout clerk, but we would see each other in the square, maybe at the pub. I would buy her and her husband a drink.

The Pirate removed his hat and nodded at the back of Grace’s head.
“M’lady.”
He placed the hat on an empty stool.  Grace looked up.
“Dark enough tonight,” The Pirate said, “…to have your legs stolen out from under you.  Far too many miles, but I was determined to make it.  Never disappoint ghosts.  What have you done to the Lepidoptera?  They’re positively out of their skulls.  Do they have skulls?”