- You hear the words “bay area.” You think of the Chesapeake. You hear the words “bay bridge.” You think of the Chesapeake. You whisper, “The Bay.” The Chesapeake thinks of you.
- You go to the city. What is a city? Ten miles later, you see horses grazing. Was the city ever even there?
- You open the spice cabinet. There is nothing but Old Bay. You take a can in your hand, shaking slightly. You tip the Old Bay onto your food. You do not remember ever buying Old Bay. You do not stop pouring. The can never gets any lighter. A pile of Old Bay grows on your plate. You do not stop pouring.
- You go to the docks at midnight. A crab sits on a piling, staring at you. You turn away from it. More crabs surround you. A susurrus of scraping shells fills your ears. You look down. You are knee deep in crabs. You smell Old Bay in the distance. The crabs keep coming.
- You look up at a faded billboard for Utz potato chips. The billboard seems to stare back at you. You look down and shiver. A crumpled National Bohemian can stares back at you. You look up. The billboard is advertising for Natty Bo. It has always been Natty Bo.