Twenty-Two
In the morning, James said he had to go to the grocery store, and I jumped at the chance to go with him.
“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been to a real, proper grocery store?”
James grunted as we pulled into the parking lot.
“Three months, James. Three months of picking through older, imported vegetables. Three months of spearfishing. Three months of figuring out when the supply ship would come so I could get first dibs on stuff.”
Inside, I was like a kid in a candy store. “Look at these beautiful strawberries. I can’t get these in Polynesia. And look at these beets; they would keep forever on the boat.”
My eyes grew big when I spotted rows and rows of chocolate bars.
In the meantime, James was grumbling on every aisle.
“They don’t have the kombucha I like. Wh
