Newport, Oregon

Nice clothes, so you know they're tourists

I whisper, Raffi nods

A skinny young woman points at the alpaca fur shop, dismayed lips almost pressed up against a dark window

fish, crab, and squid meet their death a block over

with a deep breath, she lets out a sigh, nuzzling the gentlemen beside her
shirt pulled over my nose, their glee turns sour as I pass by, breathing in floral body spray

Bleh...

...we're from here, sorry

a pink grin leaves the couple with hands on hips as we disappear into a crowd of geriatrics in khaki shorts

thirsty

I mouth, now brave enough to inhale
my turn to point, a brown sign marks the convenience store ahead

Candy
to the right

Beer
to the left

we circle 'round a family shrieking outside of Ripley's

believe it...or not

Raffi mutters, smirking at his own joke as we step into the street to avoid a boy, his mouth covered in cone crumbs

Sunsets behind bridges on their sweaters
sunset behind bridges, ahead

A push reveals a soda fountain, we make a beeline towards it and begin filling ice
a grinding noise, and

NO ICE

yelled by a young man, his glasses too large, eyes too close together

a shrug, we walk to the cold case and retrieve Diet Pepsis, two for $5
at the counter, Raffi inserts his card, I ask

any dispensaries nearby?

his expression doesn't change, blank the whole time

No. More reasons to not come to the Bayfront

another shrug, we leave the man to his dim store

Swaying out from the bars, slurring, stinking of beer, fish and wine
the tourists smile at the ripples in the bay
as we hurry home...

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