Sticks and Stones

The wind chimes gently sing as the wind sways them back and forth. The breeze coming off the ocean is chilly for this time of year and reminds you more of the coming of winter. Faintly, thunder can be heard in the distance and it gives the hint that a storm is brewing off shore. The little town of Southport has weathered many storms, and not all of them have been meteorological. Southport is a town of haves and have-nots, most of its residents are have nots. The town is your typical small coastal village, a small collection of buildings that constitute the downtown area; and the rest of the surrounding area is houses and woods without anything really of note to mention other than the humming sound of tires on the highway. The focal point and the heartbeat of the small village is the wharf, where the fishing boats are docked in neat rows as the wind makes the tide rigging sing and the greedy call of the gulls is almost deafening. All the fishermen gather at the local cafe before heading out to their boats for a day's work on the ocean. The main occupation in Southport is fishing either commercially or for charter customers. The village lives and dies by the hook. Very few people have jobs that are not in some way involved with fish. Needless to say there is not much for people to do and the modern life that many enjoy seems more of a fairy tale. Most of the kid's days are spent dreaming up ways to get out of Southport, unfortunately, few ever will.