Tyler Rigby pushed his foot against the ground, giving his hammock another gentle sway. The afternoon hours were some of the longest, and while he should’ve been used to them after six years, he still wasn’t.
It was moments like this that he thought maybe he should get a job. The idea only stayed for a breath, a fleeting moment. But it had been plaguing him for a few months now.
“Maybe after Christmas,” he said to the golden retriever. “Yeah, Lazy Bones?” He pushed the hammock again. “Maybe after Christmas.” Which was still a couple of months away too.
Not that Tyler kept track of time anymore. He had no reason to, other than he liked eating eggs for breakfast and going somewhere for dinner. And no one had their dinner menu on at three o’clock in the afternoon.
The waves of the bay lap
