“Ah.” His eyes scoured the floor of the boat and the fish there. A couple still gulped at the air, their bodies rising a bit, a tail flapping. He rubbed his tummy. “Some good eating the next couple weeks.” Raising his eyes to the starlit sky he thanked the creator--thanked him again and sat in the boat thinking of the night, the stars, the fish and where at least a couple of the fish would be within a few hours. Morgan chuckled softly then gazed into the water watching the flicker of starlight and moonlight on the little peaks and valleys the tide created. Awareness of the solitude pulled ever so slightly at him, then more, and then he thought of his wife, Roz.
Morgan’s chin rested on his chest; he sighed deeply, “Why?” he said aloud. “Why’s she want me to do the markets up here?” He pondered the question, finally realizing that the markets had taken him away from Topsail and away from her. That was not a bad thing. Being away from Roz was always good.
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