“The Venice o’ the South,” Augustine muttered, shaking his head. “Jesus.”
“People have to eat in this town. People forget that. ”
He shifted some cartons to grab his barge pole. His baby was brimming today.
Beady eyes peered down from a tie-off on the tight-squeeze canal.
“You ain’t gettin’ nothin’ today!” he roared. The seagull squawked and took off.
He eased by the fatly-packed but empty craft of his rival.
“Looks like this early bird caught a worm,” he sneered, and slid on down to market.