Billy stopped in his tracks at what he saw through the large picture window of the curiosity shop. There, on an ornate wooden display stand centered directly in the window, was a large, dead fish sticking straight up out of a chalice made of pewter or some other dull, grayish-silver metal. Underneath the cup was a small hand-painted sign with the words “Rare Mug! $100!” boldly printed in elaborate calligraphy.

“The things you see on the pier!”, Billy thought to himself as he tugged the hood of his raincoat forward a bit more against the wind and continued walking.

Changing and inclement weather was just a part of life when you lived near the ocean, and Billy had long ago become accustomed to rain days like these. He shuffled towards his destination, past the corner store where officer Davis was once again telling old Mr. Thompson that he couldn’t street preach on the pier. As usual Mr. Thompson was telling him emphatically in his cockney accent “But it’s mine right to be out here spreading the good word!”, a scene Billy had witnessed almost weekly in the three years he had been working on the docks.

The hospital appeared as quiet as the rest of the pier this afternoon, the weather keeping the normally busy anchor building of the east end as deserted as the rest. A medic was loading equipment into the back of the ambulance out front, but no other signs of activity could be seen.

“Even the germs must be holed up on a day like this” he thought as he continued his slow pace towards the warehouse, only barely visible as an outline in the distance through the fog and the rain, despite it’s immense size.

Word Combinations: dead fish, rare mug, rain days, mine right, medic