By Keith Burton i was stretching my legs on the littoralgiving names to the shapes of the cloudsthat swam across the lake’s reflectionwhen trouble came crawling on eight legs. help me across he asked with a period. i knew better; i had an owl’s acuity.no can do, i know you…
by Jessica Van den Ancker Jane did not want to go. In fact, the idea of trading her cozy reading spot for her Bronco’s bucket seat and a perilous drive through a volley of wind and rain made her want to padlock herself inside the serenity of her shotgun shack….
