This morning I took the road from the port area to the market. This is all relatively newly reclaimed land, the breakwater running through a strip that lights up after dark to afford us some semblance of a nightlife. A pizza joint and two bars, and, just after City Hall, a small beach — “white,” we like to point out. The road is named Espina Boulevard, although being the only boulevard in town everyone refers to it in the generic, save for those past a certain age who still call the area Reclem.
This morning, as it had the past few days, the tide was out. It was just the spectacular kind of December hunas that Jenny and I had been promising ourselves we would venture out onto, except where had the time gone? At least now I had time to take in the view knowing there was no use hurrying off to the market and its empty stalls. I was about to step off the sidewalk when a light rain came on. Not today, the rain seemed to say. Not this year.
This morning I went home with a pair of squid. Everyone agreed it was not the most auspicious thing to serve right before the new year, but even the superstitious have to eat, too. I should stock up on noodles in any case.
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