“Half the worst is that it wasn’t even that bad a storm.”

Squires leans on his oars and lets the skiff drift past the jetty.

“Look at the fuckin’ place. Bloody shambles.”

“Oh, I’ve seen worse,” says Skip. “The sea is a cruel mistress, after all.”

“You want I should put in? Stretch the legs a bit?”

“Aye, that’d be fine.”

Squires rows them to a half-submerged slip and ships the oars.  He steps neatly onto the dock and makes the bowline fast to a bollard.

Skip heaves himself out and climbs up after, the seawater splashing his trouser cuffs.

Friday Fictioneers

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