I see a blur of red bobbing in the horizon. I’m sitting, alone, in a life raft in the middle of the ocean. Supplies are dangerously low. How hard is it to catch a sea gull? Can you eat a sea gull? I’ve read people drink their own urine in survival situations.

I haven’t peed in two days…

A Change In Latitude published at Wigleaf as a finalist in the

Mythic Picnic Prize in Fiction

While you are there, check out my post card:

My dear Wigleaf — 

I worry, some days, that I don’t even belong in the wild west. I’ve never circled the wagons. I don’t even have a wagon, can’t afford it, they aren’t cheap. Cattle rustling? A job for quicker cowgirls…

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