All you ever wanted was the liminal

So selkie needed the Atlantic and whole-bellied clams and Revere Beach was right there.

( A voice to sing this aloud. )

And then we drove home via Route 1 and collected spatch and rushthatspeaks and barbecue from Blue Ribbon and I had dinner with my mother and both of my husbands and the mother of my godchild and time seems to have lasted several days more than usual, which is as a flying visit should be. Because we have to get up at stupid o'clock for the train, of course we stayed up talking.

I'll teach you my language, you'll show me your magic

The migratory selkie has returned to her southern waters. No one seemed to be checking tickets on the platform, so I estimate I could have made it as far as Back Bay, but instead I just saw her off at the door of her train in mid-century style. It turns out I don't approve of roofing over the tracks of South Station, which makes the entire experience much more Penn Station-like than ideal, even if the high-rise has been decades in the planning. I was sent photographic evidence of a mare's-tail sky, glimpses of the Atlantic off the Northeast Corridor which was such a familiar route of my life for years. It was good to have so much of my family in the same place. A shipping fortune still wouldn't go amiss.