“Tonight, I’m in my gazebo that sits on a spit of land, narrow as a writing brush, that juts into the pond. No typing on screens tonight. My wine cup of white celadon sits on its matching saucer.”

“‘We’re here to find a suitable mirror,’ we say to the salesman (Kensington fils from his nametag).”

“Leekin ends at the river. The first people, the Catawba Nation, harnessed it with granite weirs.”