It is full of rips and tears, its bright color drains outward into the kingdom of shells
—Mary Oliver, “Lion’s Mane”
A scattered chapter, livid hieroglyph, The portent wound in corridors of shells
--Hart Crane, "At Melville's Tomb"
Your father shows you a letter from your grandfather recommending a fellow freemason for a position in the O.S.S. You and your dad walk downhill to the pub and you order the Clams Casino. You have a surprisingly good, relaxed time— You fall asleep in your late grandmother’s old room and wake in the middle of the night . The second time you notice the total darkness. Your eyes focus on the black corner of the room...