In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

33 The Fisherman’s Chronicle Domingo hears bells on a red buoy clang in rhythm. On the prow, he spreads his legs apart to steady himself, the horizon dipping and rising before him. Then he sits and sleeps. The nets drag their brash hairs in the wake. A sea marker rings, urgent and secret, as a gull nests on its perch. It is this way for hours: only two voices. Soon the gull goes looking for the sky. Domingo, snoring in indigo, disappears as the sun sets. Far away, the harbor lights close like a sequined hand. ...

Share