That night the winds died, a morning arrived, just as he'd predicted, new light leaked between the shutters, a light like no other. The waves piled up along the shore as veined as native marble, and to the west a long arm of land descended from nowhere, joining sea and sky, a new land. It was the seer's vision become flesh, it was Anatoleor so we would learn to call itcome back to earth as earth itself.
Summer - Fall 2006
The Literary Digest of the University of Idaho