E.D. Egret

It started like any other morning. E.D. had a plan. He always has a plan.

Step one: Ethiopian blend, double shot, no nonsense. The coffee bar on the pier opens at 6:45 and E.D. is already there at 6:44, vibrating slightly. This is normal. This is fine.

Step two: get to the fishing hole before Peli figures out what's going on. Peli has been sniffing around that spot for two weeks. E.D. knows. E.D. sees everything — while appearing to see nothing, because he's usually mid-spin.

The tourists didn't help. They never do. Something about a man in a kayak hat asking where the gift shop was. E.D. excused himself at approximately 11 mph, wings partially deployed, coffee in claw, absolutely zero apologies issued.

He got the spot. Of course he did. He always gets the spot. No one really understands how. Including E.D.