I have a few years of experience there on the rock bound coast best desribed by the authors of Mash but the last year threw me for a loop. We drove down a tiny coastal road from our lighthouse of first resort and it turned into a miles long odyssey of million dollar polite little houses with tiny clevices down to a no-doubt rock bound patch of sand.
One of the houses had been consumed by fire. It was not the kind of thing one expected and no doubt it alarmed the 2 or 3 houses nearby and I wondered, how did the pump truck of the tiny town make its way down the narrow road to the appocalypse and no doubt was followed in its wake by the handful of pump trucks from the neighboring towns which, in Maine, on the Peninsula, are kind of few and far between.
sic transit gloria mundi
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