Ignacio examined the fortifications, seeing strengths, flaws, and faint future ghosts with his gift. He smiled. He’d stop the French here.
A dead dolphin drifted past, and Tom’s strength was fading. He was drowning. He wished that he’d never wished for an ocean of tequila.
Tim’s margarita was a pretty shade of pink. A drunk stranger sneered at his girly drink and wandered off to piss. Tim’s next drink was red.