Lucks Got Nothin’ To Do With It

We each walked stiff-legged into the store like some sort of Frankenstein monsters. Small children ran away squealing but mostly out of laughter. Hadn’t they seen red men before? Didn’t their parents ever tell them not to make fun of other’s misfortune? I had a mind to track down the moms and dads and give them a piece of my mind, but the most important thing was finding where they kept the aloe cream in this particular store.
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Just for the Halibut

Gigantic swells of water lifted the small boat up and down as though it were a bobber being toyed with by a bluegill. But this was icy, thirty-nine degree water in the southern end of Cook Inlet near Homer, Alaska that kills by hypothermia in less than ten minutes. With each passing second the swells grew until finally from my seat, as the boat dipped down into the trough of the wave, all I could see before me was a grayish blue wall of water rising above my head and rushing to meet me fast. Then, as the wave neared the boat, we were lifted unto it and raised fifteen feet into the air.
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