brush and weeds burn, transformed into heat and glowing coals. i sip a coke and poke at embers, hoping to spark a flame. the sun skates below a long line of sand pines, a chill wind ... CONTINUED
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A growling high tide crashes relentlessly against the old pier's weathered ... CONTINUED
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another cold, gray morning. a steady breeze showers my window with spray while the tin ... CONTINUED
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Somewhere beneath thick morning mist and sailing calm blue waters on Shelekhivske ... CONTINUED
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