The air smelled like salt, a cool breeze washed over my face, the moon glittered on the water. I couldn’t wait to leave Maryland, after eighteen years of drudgery, opportunity hovered on the horizon. Yet, I’d always miss the water.
We sat on the warped wooden bench looking out onto the Magothy River. Sophie at my side, scraped the bottom of her cup, then tossed it to the trash can. She missed by a yard.
I laughed. “I don’t know why you try anymore.”
“Because, one day I’ll get it.” She walked over to the remnants of deliciousness and placed it into the receptacle.
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