essays by shé

Tag: spoken word

  • 400 Miles

    I heard them first, the dolphins, blowing out air like men swimming alongside Habibi. The moon wasn’t up yet, and I was motorsailing a cautious four knots while keeping an eye out for shrimpers, tankers, and fishing boats. The Big Dipper was clear above the mast, pointing out north. A dark dolphin shape leaps ten…