A fisherman ventures into the mudflats surrounding Bird Creek. His preoccupation with his disharmonious marriage leads to a confrontation with mortality and a rediscovery of beauty.
Inside the barn, it was quiet. I breathed the smell of wet hay and barley. There was no rustling of birds in the rafters—Mark had shooed off the pigeons early fall. Up near the loft, a moth flew in and out of the slatted light. In my younger days I would have cupped it in my hands, carried it outside, but I stood and watched, knowing its wings would give out sooner than its will.
A restless nicker broke the stillness. Derby and Baxter hoped I’d brought them a carrot. The barn creaked and groaned with the wind, and I heard Clara’s step outside. She pulled the double doors open.
An eighteen-year-old working on his father’s construction site in Puerto Rico is visited by ghosts that dredge up family secrets.
A young woman and her mother take a day trip to the beach. The daughter swims out perilously far as she contemplates her relationship with her body.