By the third day Levin was convinced: this Tolly kid was a shark.
Idaho, my butt, he told the Bishop. You don't get a tan like that in Pocatello this time of year and you don't just pull the Appenger '64 defense out of your ear when you've only been playing for three days. Three days! He used his fork to spear an olive at the bottom of his bloody mary.
Grupinksi, the greatest natural talent I've ever seen, went from novice to master in six weeks. Six weeks!
The Bishop shrugged. So let's say he did wink at the bartender, the Cuban. What does that prove?
But Levin's mind was made up. He was going to alert the captain and have the kid and his toothy grin thrown off the boat at Virgin Gorda.
Image above: Shuffleboard! by flickr user Bret Arnett. Huzzah!
3 comments:
An entire multi-cultural universe, a protagonist, an antagonist, a suggested history, real conflict, the smell of the ocean...all in just five short paragraphs.
Well done, my friend. I love these stories. I learn a lot from them.
You help me curb my verbosity.
Less is good.
Less also leaves more time for Shikoku.
...by which I mean Sudoku. Down, spellcheck. Sit. Stay.
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