“I give up. I’m going to shutter this place and find another site to start over,” Dave said.
“But honey, a restaurant by the sea was your dream,” Maryanne said. “I’m sure, if you’ll just be patient, we can make a go of it.”
“Dammit,” Dave said, “every time another Nor’Easter hits this bay, it dumps tons of seaweed on our outdoor dining area. This is the fifth time this season and I’ve had it. That’s it.”
“But where will we go?” Maryanne asked.
“Inland, where the sea can’t reach the restaurant,” Dave said. “Unless, you know, climate change.”
Written for Rachel Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Sandra Cook