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Wednesday, October 5, 2022
On the seventh day of every month, Lucille’s Ma hands her a watering can—the one with the peeling blue paint and half-shattered spout and the pastel eggs she coloured on it when she was half the age she is now. Lucille’s body sags with the weight of it, but she bears it with resolve,... More
Across our island from the dock, Father lugged a snotty mess of wire and rasped about Winston. “Caught the damn turtle at the cage again. Fish are gone. Fucker better learn its place.” Globs of flesh dangled in the web. “Don’t worry,” he said, “we’ll catch more. Can’t eat stuff floatin’ in the water.... More
When I was a boy, I found myself captivated by the idea of a whale fall. I could tilt my head up and close my eyes anywhere I was, and call to mind that serene vastness of the ocean above me, carrying down the end of a venerable life. The corpse drifts on the... More
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