It was a rainy day at Watch Hill, Rhode Island. So, with nothing else to do I wandered around the antique store. Filled with old curiosities, I did have to laugh to myself the amount of money people were willing to spend on, well, junk.

I happened to glance at a old lobster cracker. It was quite lovely, and looked welled used. It wasn’t destroyed, but you could tell that it had seen many a claw. I had just switched from being vegetarian to pescatarian, so I pickled it up for a closer look.

I felt a sudden dizziness, and saw bright lights all around me. I came to on the beach, quite a bit a ways from the store, the cracker still in my hand. What the hell had happened? And why were all these mansions here? Yes, that eye-sore of the Ocean House was a blight on the land, but there were more now!

Ugh, I needed a drink. The town was dry, but I had some booze in my Nalgene,back in my pack in the car. Wait, where is my car? Where is the parking lot? Why is everyone dressed like that, and starting at me?

Okay, deep breathes. Something odd is going on here. Everyone looked like they were dressed for the 30s, and here I was in shorts and a tank top, clutching a lobster cracker. I looked down at the cracker, and it was shiny and new. Just lovely. Out of all the lobster crackers in all of New England, I had to grab the time-traveling one. Wasn’t that just my luck?

Okay, so I am in the past. But when? I decided not to talk to the people, time-line purity partially, but also I had a feeling if I called more attention to myself I could be locked up for indecency. I needed a newspaper.

And look at that! A newspaper boy, selling his wares. Just have to sneak up to him, and glance at the date. September 20th, 1938. Oh shit.

The Hurricane of ‘38 would hit tomorrow. This town would be devastated. I started to walk fast, inland, knowing there was little safe ground.

Curse you, Lobster Gods. I should have stayed with tofu.