Tag: issue-seven
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Kai Cooley
Manchester Island On the mainland, Ricky sat on a metal milk crate in a bird blind he’d made of driftwood and jimson weed stems. Leafy branches overhead caged the blue of the sky. At his ear, a mosquito crooned of bloodlines. He raised his grandpa’s antique binoculars towards the arrowhead-shaped wedge of land in the…
