“Confusing isn’t it?” She adjusted the gooseneck lamp along with the old dusty stuffed bunny, and put the monkey wrench in the bottom of the rowboat.
The boat rental man just ignored her, even though his vexations of pernicious tendencies had put his dimentia on hold that morning. However he didn’t try to hide his angst over her vermillion lipstick, reminding him of his long deceased wife who favored that shade. He was not one to mollycoddle anyone, especially the weird woman on Pier 13.
The varied equipment she was transporting to the island didn’t concern him. His jejune life resembled that of an empty milk bottle, once used and old, it became dingy and sour.