~ thelastofthebertinellis liked for a starter
(and so can you!) ~
“We had a heatwave like this, back on Blackhawk Island one summer, musta been, oh ––”
What’s left of her beer sloshes in a musical tinkle at the bottom of her bottle as she gestures with it. “Musta been ‘43 or thereabouts. Anyhow, you’d think those boys were ready to just about murder each other, what with the fightin’ and tusslin’ and general pigheadedness of it all. I was just about ready to dump ‘em all out at sea and let ‘em swim home. Didn’t snap ‘til a monster of a storm swirled in one night ‘n slapped our camp flat.”
She hefts her bottle, frowns, waggles it at the bartender for a replacement. “What I mean is, we’re gonna have one rowdy city on our hands if this weather doesn’t give us all a break, and soon.”















