It was probably too cold to take the boat out but pops insisted that we hadn’t had one of our good talks in a while.
The water lapped against the wood sides of our little white skiff while the wind carried us along. The sky was green and somber and Lady Liberty stood out in the distance looking like she’d rather be somewhere else.
“It’s pretty the way the fog hugs her from time to time, ain’t it?”
“Yeah pops, it is. Welcome home pops.”
“Yeah, I can write you a story.”
“Do you have a pen?”
“Don’t fuck with me, Jake. Do you have anything going?
“Some things are going, some things are stalled. Some got caught in the morning fog on the way here.”
“Hey fuck off, Bill! Whiskey-sodden. I can’t stand the taste of gin.”
“Please be serious about this, Jake. We need something from you soon or else we might be going down with you.”
“Alright, Bill. It’s alright. I’ll pull myself together, just for you.”