The Boatman
A grizzled man leaned against the doorframe, cigarette dangling from cracked lips. His skin was leathered by years of salt air and sun. “Need a boat?” he asked casually, before she could even speak. Judy gave a short, sharp nod. “Just a ride,” she replied evenly. “Out past the breakers.” Pete squinted, studying her face with suspicion, but didn’t push for details. He exhaled smoke, slow and thoughtful, then simply jerked his head toward the docks.
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