I am a traveller from a land between other lands. My sky is your ocean, and your ocean is my…
Here there was no one to watch, no one to critique, and no one to praise.
Along the stones they swept, closing doors and opening windows, taking with them all that was untethered from the earth
She circles all around me.
The lighthouse wouldn’t be far, he told himself.
Margaret tried to hum a tune.
Now they are before me. I retreat into the shadows as he twirls her outward.
Apparently, he was rational and inquisitive to the howling end.
Rosalind, what are you.