My breasts strain the buttons. Silently, I pray they hold. We are off. He doesn’t say a word as we make our way to a local dive bar. As we enter... his hand is firmly on my ass. We stand there with drinks. He looks around.“I’m not a possessive man.”“Okay.”“I like to share.”“Okay.”A man approaches. They fist bump. The man looks at me. He looks at my chest straining against the buttons. He smiles. “This is Allie.”“Hi, Allie.”I nod. The bar guy caresses my face. He strokes my neck. He. The boatswain had said the old timer marined the last war as well. The gentleman finished his soup, studied last year’s calendar, and then rolled dice, right hand vs. the left. Jesus H. Christ! Cookie thought, looking at himself if he made it that far.Approaching Manhattan at daybreak, Cookie was on the deck when he saw Mirta alone, adjusting her scarf and facing into the headwind. For him it was just another westbound crossing — albeit a long one — but then again, it seemed a crossing over. More

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