He froze.
“You’re in a position of authority.”
Captain Pancake swallowed.
“Disappointing.”
He wagged his tail.
“Don’t charm me.”
He sat on her foot.
Annie looked at me.
“I see the problem.”
By the time the children left, the shop looked as though a craft store had exploded inside an aquarium.
Annie stood near the counter peeling stickers from her arms.
Hank handed her a damp cloth.
“You did good.”
She looked genuinely pleased.
“Good for a beginner?”
Hank glanced at me.
“She’s been here too long.”
“I’ve corrupted her.”
Annie removed the star from her forehead and attached it to Hank’s shirt.
“There. You looked unfinished.”
He stared down at it.
Captain Pancake sneezed glitter.
It was nearly one when we escaped.
A small weekend market had appeared near the marina beneath striped tents.
Local jewelry.
Painted signs.
Honey.
Soap shaped like sea creatures.
A man selling wooden bowls with the intensity of someone negotiating international treaties.
Annie slowed at each stall.
