Between State

The sprinklers next door activate after three in the morning. The rhythmic sound of water slapping against the stucco wall wakes me. I stumble into the hallway, and pause in slumbery stupor—a figure at the end of the hallway, shrouded in misty light. A reminder: “Wandering lakes have a shimmering surface—how deep the water goes? Throw a stone and find out.”

No. 119