Excerpt from “Memorial Day”
“Eventually, we made it to Ditch Plains; I searched for my father in the collection of surfers enjoying the instability of the morning. He wasn’t among them. Marta suggested we turn around, that she needed to meet with her father before the day grew too late. She said it just that way, too: before the day grows, as if we’d met at the day’s inception, walked in its childhood, and we could only remain together during that adolescence because what came after, after the day had grown, neither of us could comprehend.”
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