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Tuesday, August 1, 2017

A Mothers Day Shopping Trip spills into August.

Parts OneTwoThreefourfive  and Six are here, please have a look,

All around us the men moved with a terrible purpose. The floor had gone from dingy gray concrete to planks, laid at right angles to the walls. And the walls were slowly sinking, and curving, and had taken on a stark brown appearance, with eye bolts sticking up at regular intervals. But, they weren't really bolts, they were pins, driven into the top of the wall. 

Motion, movement, and deliberate confusion were all around us. Men moved, shuffled past our cart without even seeing us. There was a sense of urgency, despite the slow, deliberate ballet unfolding in front of our eyes, you could sense the menace, the terrible importance of each small movement.

Fog was drifting from right to left, wispy clouds floating like small ghosts in front of us, around us. They seemed to avoid getting too close, swerving around the spot where we stood, and then converging on the other side. 

Rays of sunlight began to break through, and the scene was unreal. A ship, shiny with varnish, buckled and rolled. Masts high with sails, ropes wound and hanging from everywhere, grates to the holds below., and stairs leading to an elevated deck in front of us. We were sprayed by briny, cool water that crashed into the side of the "boat."

Somewhere behind us a song broke out, a melancholy song of love, loss, and sorrow. Soon men all around us joined in haunting, chilling, heartbreaking harmony. A tear ran down my cheek, even though I could only understand part of what was being said. Much of it seemed to be in an ancient, dead language, that I, somehow, began to decipher, decode. A dark, long lost language only sailors, and kayakers would understand.

My wife pulled out her phone and said, "this is crazy, I am giving them a bad review on Yelp." 

Everything stopped. Men turned to look at us. One of them grabbed a deck chair from behind a large round vent that led to the bottom off the ship.

Another came rushing over with a frosty drink, topped by a toothpick holding several slices of fruit. A band started playing calypso music. Soon, we were sitting in chairs, under huge umbrellas, being fanned by a couple of men dressed in white shorts and t-shirts that had tuxedos printed on them.

My wife looked over her huge sunglasses at me and said, "you have to love Yelp."

"Yes, you do." I said. 

to be continued.