I could feel the shape of the swamp through the soles of my chest waders. The slick mud floor, churning up a darker color — if I could see it, caked my waders with Kenai River mud. If it weren’t a ...
The tablet of graph paper, green colored with quarter-inch squares used for drafting, sat on the low table before me. The woodstove crackled with spruce near where Rigby sat on the end of the table, ...
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