Steamers and kelp (pt. 4)

They walked out of the store and into the humidity. Pete's ginger ale already had beads of condensation running down the sides - he cracked it and unlocked the car. Bill had a cigarette lit before he got in and he offered Pete the open pack. Pete drew one out and lit it with the stainless windproof  given to him by a Korean exchange student. They pulled out of the lot and on to main street behind a rusted F-350 Dump. Pete smelled the diesel from the exhaust and remembered Bermuda. He thought of Elsa and the yellow Peugeot and the big busses that would pollute the tight coral-walled alleyways with their black fumes. He remembered how she felt pressed up against his back on the bike and how the white painted walls were stained black from the busses. 

Pete blew smoke out his nose and looked around the old New England town. He was glad to be here now with an old friend, going fishing again.

Steamers and kelp (pt. 3)

The proprietor of the corner store was from India and he had a beautiful young wife who worked with him sometimes during his 17-18 hour shifts. Pete liked the man and they would always talk in very low, serious tones about politics and the economy. This day, the owner had a line at the counter so Pete nodded as he walked to the back of the store and looked through the glass doors that displayed the beverage selection. He opened one of the doors, feeling the vacuum of the refrigerator and grabbed a ginger ale. by the time he reached the front counter, most of the customers had filed out, leaving only Bill and him. Bill was a dollar short on the cigarettes so Pete paid for everything and took the money Bill had.