“Let’s get tight on the wine of the country and take a swell bus ride.”
– Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises

Apple Slices

He pulled his pocketknife through the apple, and stopped the blade with his calloused thumb. The slice went onto a small plate in front of him. He worked his way around the apple, cutting thin slices and setting them down on the plate. He set the core away from him, rinsed the blade in a glass of water and dried it thoroughly on his pant leg.

A small girl ran into the kitchen, He smiled and pushed out his chair.  He lifted her onto his lap and drew the plate closer.

Her stubby little fingers grabbed at the apple slices.

It Wasn’t So Much About Fishing

The boy came by and said the captain was ready to take us out. We thanked him and gave him a dollar. He smoothed it out against the thigh of his rolled-up trousers and then slipped it reverently into the pocket of his shirt.

Thanking us, he picked his heavy bait bucket and walked down the beach.

We ate quickly and dressed and followed his footprints, one shallow, one deep, to the docks. The captain squinted and said the wind was blowing right and warm and we’d surely hook a good-sized marlin if we left now, before the currents changed.

Prompt courtesy of  Friday Fictioneers. Read more stories here.