News — Memories

You sit there, picking out the little morsels of sweet lump crab between bits of shell and casing and time evaporates. Your fingers are caked in Old Bay — they’ll smell for a good day — and so there’s no chance you’ll reach for your phone to check something or idle over instagram. Instead, conversation ebbs and flows. A cicada’s buzz crescendoes, then abruptly disappears. Mosquitos nip at the ankles and elbows and beads of condensation drip down the side of your beer. It is hot and humid and the air swells thick around you — but you don’t much...