Stavanger Bay I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

Excitement bubbles up from his toes to his ears. It's magnificent, isn't it? He offers a toothsome grin as he says, I grew up near the ocean, but it never loses its charm. It always feels like this.

He wants to ask about where she grew up, but she changes the subject quickly; intuition tells him to drop whatever question had been on the tip of his tongue. You're in luck, he says, now intrigued, depending on the message, I'm up for the job. He didn't want to threaten anyone, but barring that, he felt that whatever it was, it couldn't possibly be troublesome.

All I'd want really is a place to stay. It doesn't even have to be forever, if you're not looking for anyone to help out, but if I come through here again could you tell whoever lives here with you not to chew my legs off?