(Author’s note: It’s hot. It’s sweltery. It’s insanely weird outside. And there are thunderstorms on the way. All I can say is…time to write!)
One More River
by Miles H. Rost
It got in Giuseppi’s eyes, down his striped shirt, and soaked through his beret.
He made sure none of it got on the bottles of milk he was ferrying. One last bridge, one last load, then homeward.
He saw the dock, and started to guide his gondola over.
Giuseppi looked to his right, in time to see a yacht twice his size ram him, cutting clean through the gondola.
Shock. Fear. Anger.
He glared at the yacht, grabbed a bottle of milk that hadn’t sunk, and chucked it at the yacht.
He went down with all the milk.