Entirety is great in Mercybay or so we’d considered. A particular period closer to concluding the small town bay side redevelopment and each eager sailor would have what they have imagined about and only witnessed in the theaters. One thing was for absolute the locals where at there wits end with all the industrial large trucks, all the twilight morning frustrations, noisy beeping noises from the trucks reversing up, and not to mention the mud tracks going from the construction site to the highway and beyond. Who could withstand another year of this chaos.
It all started with Mrs. Wills and that outdated overrated store of hers that spilled over with enough luggage to store the Chinese in. Don’t get me incorrect the handbags where mostly nice, it was Mrs. Wills that everyone had had enough of. She continually insisted on this over budgeted investment in the bay locality and since she was from a more upscale breed, as she often made known with everyone she related to and those relations allowed her much a sway in just the right places to get a thing like this authorized in an otherwise determined and even prudish town committee board.
Obviously she had known some English gentleman who had the market for Vera Bradley designer handbags cornered from Venice to Ventura and he adored her something fierce, or so it was said. Never the less this bloke was a float with enough capital to manipulate our treasured little town and create what was sure to be a titanic among developers, a story to be told for ages of how poor Mercybay was run aground and left for the ghosts. Well all would not be forgotten, at least if I had anything to do about it. Who did I assume I was? That is a shock for sure and especially to my wife Mrs. Wills. I mean for goodness sake our garage, our storage, our every empty space was packed full of these handbags.