The sun approaching noon, skies clear, a blue, crisp, a blue, pristine . . . sky unspoiled by humidity, dry today, as dry as sand, today, cliche sky, blue, nearly 0% humidity, you know---no clouds to speak of except thin wisps of cirrus . . .  What Ms. Stephens says, she says with pen and … Continue reading The Wake of a Wave Back into the Sea; or, She Wanted Lunch [Fiction]