As I walk toward the beach, a fisherman approaches, on a red scooter, long surf-casting poles under his arm.
It makes me uneasy for a moment.
The scooter passes uneventfully.
I know he won’t, but still…
Published
As I walk toward the beach, a fisherman approaches, on a red scooter, long surf-casting poles under his arm.
It makes me uneasy for a moment.
The scooter passes uneventfully.