The starlings gathered at dusk, like a congregation assembling for evening prayer. From all directions they came, starting in groups of five or six, slowly amassing into a great swarm that danced and flickered like a great creature all of its own.
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Long into the Night
Nin sat on the beach and looked out over the bay and contemplated his life. He stared into the water, as if he expected to see some vision or portent in the depths. The light from the moon, reflected on the waves, danced before him and stung his swollen eyes.
He barely perceived the tiny puff of wind as a bluebird alighted on the rock beside him.
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Crosstown Gate 