“You not from ‘round’ here, are you?”         Sam turned to find a brown-haired mousy little girl peering over his shoulder.  “How would you know that?”         “I ain’t seen ya before.  That means you...

A flock of sailing fiddlers flyDown flowing fountain in the skySeven-fold they fair my eyeAs life so faintly passes bySeven-fold the fearless fliersFinger through the fiery breeze,Symphonic plumage ever whiterFeathered phantom melodiesFlying, flying, never dyingTo each, the cool breeze...

     Samantha didn’t know where she was. Her foot was heavy on the pedal, gliding down the open, hilly slopes of the backcountry. Cellphone in one hand; the GPS buffering. Twice already she almost crashed. Approaching out of...