IN A BAR BY THE OCEAN, THE WORLD WAITS
Hayden TrenholmMany people had gathered in the bar by the ocean but only three of them matter.
An old woman, her skin leathered brown by age and sun and history, sat alone at a table by the central pole that held up the golden silk canopy. Her eyes were burdened by the cruelty of intelligence. She scanned the sparse crowd before focusing on the couple nearest the water.
They alternated between gazing at the ocean and each other. Half-finished drinks, the ice melting in the heat —rum and cokes from the looks of them—stood forgotten on their table, along with a vaping pipe, a sequined purse, and a Spanish phrase book. Once in a while the girl reached for the purse, as if she were afraid it would walk away. She would lay her hand on it and then sit ba
