“I’m happy to help. And I can promise you, you haven’t seen anything yet,” I smirked, putting a hand on his shoulder. Our first real physical contact now that I think about it, a moment that meant nothing at the time. “When you’re ready.” I went ahead and made my way out of the church, taking a deep breath of fresh air in as soon as me feet were on green grass again.

Our next stop was far off the normal trail, but I wanted to go back into town first. “We’ll get lunch at the little fishing town about forty-five minutes from here. Bad thing about this place is it’s a lot of traveling. But I bet you’ll get some shots there.”

During the drive I didn’t stop talking much, playing twenty questions with the poor man. I asked pretty normal questions to begin with: his favorite trip, about his family, if he ever got home sick. I couldn’t help but watch him as he spoke, loving the ‘young artist’ look about him. “Do you have a favorite novel?” I went on, telling him of my own. “I enoy reading fiction a lot. I’m reading The Eye of the World right now.” I mention a few movies, though I normally go to St. Anthony for movies, and it’s not worth the drive to me much.

“Well, I promise this will be worth the walk,” I eventually sighed. “And putting up with my rambling mouth.” It was about time I shut up, I thought. When we reached the little sandwich shop I shut the truck off, getting out and immediately stretching. There was a dock in the distance with a few fishing boats not being used, the houses in the area made with vinyl siding and clearly decades old. It was a quiet area, like much of Newfoundland. "This place is a hole in the way, but I enjoy it. You won't see any tourists here."