That which is inside you must be trusted. Soul’s compass. These seas are not familiar, the wake drifts in an odd direction and the tiller shivers beneath the unsteady hand. Bring the vessel home. Bring the vessel home. In a shaded area by the rocks a decaying seal corpse ripens the day. And caught in the net a transfixed moth waves antennae in certain warning.
Writer, James Claffey hails from County Westmeath, Ireland, and lives on an avocado ranch in Carpinteria, CA. He is fiction editor at Literary Orphans, and the author of the short fiction collection, Blood a Cold Blue. Follow him on Twitter at @534mu5.