"We're Still In The Game"

"We're still in the game." If you haven't heard this then I know you haven't actually spent any considerable amount of time with my dad. It is a metaphor for life based on the game of chess, a place and a world that makes perfect sense to him. Ever since that first phone call, when I was about 21 years old, all our correspondences since have started with those same five words. I think he would prefer a world that operated on the principles of chess. Where everything followed

Bronze Age

A tale of tails, brooms that sweep at the sky, telling V’s or bronzed backs glimmering as they hump the surface of the water. Two young men lower a canoe from a sea wall in an abandoned lot somewhere on the Space Coast. They push the vessel through inland ponds created by mangrove trees, oyster bars and a dropping tide. Somewhere else they ride the incoming tide through back water creeks and coves, where fresh and salt shake hands and the estuary is filled with tannic dye. Th