Heroes of Village Creek
The dock is a sanctuary - the water, a witness.
They talk the way women do when their hands are busy, and their hearts are at ease.
At first, it’s practical—who’s bringing the ice tomorrow, whose grandson finally learned to set a crab pot right, and whether the tide will turn early this afternoon. Fingers move fast and sure, muscle memory laid down decades ago. Knives flash. Shells crack. Buckets fill. Their bodies remember even when their knees ache.
But soon the talk drifts, like the tide always does.
