Circle of Peas

Every year tourists pour into our cove. Each family convinced that sleeping in a $50 room with a view of a foggy ocean is worth double or more. Sometimes they spend a month's worth of rent on two nights in a dated house with mismatched dishes. In these cases their shitty children sell powdered lemonade colored water to the locals. I would ride my bike past them and their tiny exposed teeth; the fatter of the group collecting the quarters and doling out orders for more water or more drink powder.

Long story short: I ate all the peas I grew myself that i planned to sell because that fat girl runs a tight ship; my pea-stand didn't pea-stand a chance.