They’d passed through the portal just after moonrise. Their ship navigated left, then right, and left again, pulling up to the dock with a scrape and a sigh. Continue reading
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Dog Days and a Purple Moon
Nita traced the path of a seagull, as it tipped and bounced through the harbor breeze, noting its resemblance to the whitecaps further out and closer to the breakwater. There’s a reminder there, she thought, that a thing is not always as it seems at first glance. Continue reading