(a Catalog of Stories rejected as promotional material by Zachary Dakota Scott)
Summer is the time to go to Maine. When you go to Maine, people will probably recommend that you visit Cadillac Mountain. They will tell you it sports gorgeous views of some-such islands.
Summer is a time when you go on road trips with friends. So us four, we’re in Maine right, and we’re having lobster in Portland.
“My girlfriend’s family lives near here,” says Darryl.
“Call her,” says us, “see if we can stay there.”
“But I’ve never met them,” says Darryl.
A couple hours later, we drive our car into their backyard and set up a tent. Ally’s brother, Greg, spends the night hanging with us, talking, smoking cigarettes, and showing us around their property in the dark. Afsar impresses Ally’s mother by being himself. The next day, Greg takes us out on the “pond”. In Maine, a pond has multiple islands, and is the size of thirty football fields. Also, if you run out of gas in Greg’s skiff that he lets you pilot, he will sail to the rescue on a catamaran with the skill of a savvy Phoenician and give you a full can of gas so you can get your landlubbin’ ass back to the dock. He will also let Zach lounge aboard the bridgedeck like an ancient demi-god of hedonistic ignorance whilst he saves the day.
Summer is a time of thunderstorms. True, the keys are locked securely in the car but, have no fear, Greg quickly slings the triangular sail up between three trees and we all huddle beneath it, laughing our asses off as the sky explodes around us.
We went to Cadillac Mountain. I never saw the some-such views due to fog.
But at the “pond”, ourselves dry in the showered forest, we watched the clouds roll away and the sun shine out in the clear, blue sky over the water.