This is the worst batch of lobstas we’ve had in a long, long time. They’re tiny as little kittens, barely worth the manpower we wasted getting them outta the traps. I don’t know why I’m surprised, since they’re outta season, but we’d been having a good string o luck lately. All good things come to an end though, isn’t that what they say? It’s March though, which is almost April, which is almost May – when the beaches open and the lifeguards are back over on their chairs, waving to the boats in the mornings and yelling at the kids to get offa the jetties. Then when I’m pulling the traps and sailing off in the mornings I got a little something to look forward to – a wave from a pretty girl or two. Some of em even know my name nowadays. Guess I’m a bit of a celebrity. But till then, it’s just me and these kitten lobstas, covered in salt, waiting for May.
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