The Scent of an Ocean on sensitive lips.

Our nostrils flared, our lips curled, all the while tears welling up in our eyes, inadvertently. Few things in the world are as nasty as the ocean bottom when more life has been beaten against the rocks and innards spewed as far as the eyes could see. Hal and I ran back to the car and locked the doors, blocking all smells from entering right, It took another 15 minutes to rid the smell from our old factory nerve yet in our minds it lingers today. Days later in N.B. standing in line at the bank several fish factory workers came in and that same smell rushed back into my mind like tossed salad. I fled the line and ran outside until they vacated the bank, image, 12 hours of that every day, never complain about your co-words bio.

If they won't have beach let them drink wine. Tucked away into the hills secluded from view was an Italian winery. 440 years old, this family has lived in these areas, the last Italian of the original families that came over in the 1700 century, and you think you look old. This winery couldn't boast of wine, since the Quebec government confiscated all their bottles from last year. They were over the limit of importing grapes from outside the region. Protecting or Prospering? Hard to know, as there are no grapes to be exchanged in the region so what do vineyards like this do, that can't grow enough. We were the first to arrive so the curator snuck us samples, then a full glass, it was divine, I would have bought a case. Instead  of wine an Italian grocery market was set up in the seller, where they were sampling, 4 types of extra virgins that olive oil must be hard to find now a days,  8 selections of balsamic vinegar mixed with essence of lemons, pimentos, almonds, and aged from 8-20 years. Olives, bright green rounds to soft black ones that melted on your tongue. An olive paste of tapenade that Hal was devouring one slice banquette smeared with a heaping helping, it was intended to be eaten delicately, slowly and savored, what to do with the uncivilized, laugh and run away. We came on empty stomachs and left laughing in the heavy rain.

Later on in the day Hal was now accustomed to having a second café, and his delicate lips couldn't fathom the lids many of the cafe's offered. He began decreasing his expectation of the coffee if the lids didn't match his expectation. I looked at his lips as we drove away wondered how truly hard life must be for him.