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The main street in the small town, holding a post office, a pharmacy, a bait and tackle shop, the only bank, and the town mercantile, was poorly lit and Ember chuckled. “Bedtime’s still 8 pm around here,” she said, freely mocking the lack of nightlife of her hometown. Discomfort in her lower back reminded her that she wasn’t in her own car and her smile instantly faded. She questioned her decision to fly to Helena, rent a car, and then attempt the 6 hour drive to Glasgow by herself. She wanted to surprise her family with her unannounced return, and knowing that her mother’s upcoming birthday would be celebrated by the entire extended family was a bonus. The question of whether or not her decision was a good one was quickly overridden with thoughts of how she’d return the rental car and Ember wasn’t paying attention. From the corner of her eye, she noticed it--a ghostly white figure, hunched over and staggering--on the country road a hundred yards in front of her. “Jesus!” she. The woman was wearing no underwear! Kevin had been feeling bare ass through her skirt! "Oopsie!" she laughed with a raised eyebrow to Linda, and dropped her skirt when she stood, and then extended a hand to her. "Come with me, Linda," the younger girl offered, and robotically, still musing at her bold attire, she stood and they walked, her hand resting lightly in Veronica's. She walked behind the other woman as if in a dream, disconnected and careless of the sudden departure from her accepted reality.The rest room, thankfully, was empty as Veronica turned to her while the door closed. "I just wanted us to talk, first," she said, sounding almost conspiratorial; friends sharing a secret. "To make sure you were okay. You seem a little," she touched Linda's upper arm, holding it tenderly, "flustered." She smiled, a warm and friendly smile, but there was a danger behind her eyes. No, she thought. Not danger. Daring. "Tyler and I, we play, together. You know what I’m talking about?" Linda.
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We dropped sail at the head of the last little fork in the north finger, where a large rock face and rubble field dropped to the water's edge. We were in the wind shadow now of the mountains, and the tricky breezes made it hard to sail at slow speeds, so we slid slowly into the Eastern finger on momentum, and finally a little encouragement from the trolling kicker. There was a shallow little beach there, with dense scrub covering an ugly looking rocky slope that slowly transformed into a solid rock face as it continued towards the east. We stored the sail, got the deck gear squared away and dropped the stern anchor, letting it drag a little as we pulled right up to the beach. I hopped ashore and Dad quickly handed me our packs along with my kit, and the he hopped ashore with me. We pushed the boat back out into the deeper water, and once it was were Dad thought it needed to be he pulled the hard line to the bow anchor. It dropped into the bay, pulling the anchor chain and the spring.

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