Summer Dusk
David Athey
Summer dusk in Minnesota seemed like it would last until midnight, as if Alaska were just around the corner, and we often pretended that we were Eskimos and the small green lawn was open water between glaciers, and we sat in a wrecked canoe behind my dad’s shed, whispering about killer whales and killer storms and killer invaders from the unknown; and when Todd’s mom opened the door of their trailer to call him home, Continue reading “David Athey, Winter 2017”