by Sean Talbot
26 April 2013 Dear Heeth, My fifth annual pilgrimage to a remote fishing village on the far edge of the world—Bristol Bay—ends and begins today. Our two-prop plane just flew over Kenai, your burial…
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Afterimage
by KT Thompson
When the airplane crashed in the meadow, I was on a walk to look for birds. My torso a crosshatch of straps: binoculars, camera, sling with water and treats for my dog, the leash.
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Points of departure
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