ジョシュ・ブローリンのインスタグラム(joshbrolin) - 9月26日 07時01分

He came in on his 18 footer. I was holding onto my mother's coat, while we waited for him to dock up. It was drizzling, my blonde hair was dripping and heavy locks coagulated around my eyes. I looked up to her and saw her longing as she watched him come in as if there might be something between the few moments separating them that might spring up from the waters below keeping them yet longer from that reunited embrace, that suckerfished lip to lip. She may have been crying in anticipation but you can never see proper tears in the rain.
The labored sounds of that motor grew like the dumping of a bulldozer's bucket as she slowly walked to the edge of the dock. "Hey, Ma?". "Shhhh.", she replied as I saw his far off mouth smile those stained teeth from years of hygienic neglect out at sea. I've seen them kiss for hours, as if each one was either the first one or the last they'd ever have.
He stepped up. She moved forward with me. They embraced. I heard him chuckle. I stared at his thick fingers as he laid them on the lower part of her back, they were dry and scaly like dehydrated chicken fingers. He finally looked down at me and asked me if I'd been fishing at all. I had. I also lost a tooth in the front, the one on the right. The tooth fairy never came unless the whole family was together so I knew tonight the wealth would come.
That dock always holds my most vivid memories: the weighing of big fish, my hand slipping off my mother's damp coat, my shoes making noises with each step on the oily wood of the dock, his tobacco stained teeth and waiting there endlessly for the last kiss to end.

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