We
rounded the corner, went down the street. The boats in the inner harbour
were all afloat. "It's in," we both said at the same time. The
wind hit us in the face, we heard the crashing of the waves as we half
run round the next corner and stand up the incline to the outer harbour.
The low-tide beach was gone, under the full moon the tide was surging
wildly against the breakwater, spray was flying and the sea was breaking
half way up the steps. And the wind, the wind, the ... From Turtle Diary by Russell Hoban. |
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