and each day, and each day a new typhoon will come in

They tempted her to ask, “at what point did this seem like a good idea?”

She knew the answer already. Three beers, ten minutes, and one unconscious person ago. She pushed herself off the floor, ignoring the fact that everything was going up and down. Of course it was going up and down. That’s what happened on the water.

Another fist was thrown. She stumbled to the side – both because of the bouncing waves and from the thought that she might fall to the ground again, but so would he. Maybe he wouldn’t get back up and that would leave her with only the entire bar minus two people in a fight.

The door stood still halfway across the room. It was really taking her forever to get there.
Stupid boat bars.