the smuggler’s bible


The sun hits the water at such an angle that a single sizzling ray bounces off a swell and slices across the beach. Haruko’s umbrella bursts into flame immediately. The ice in her cooler melts, boils and evaporates.

“Are you seeing this shit?”

“Calm down and enjoy yourself. It’s nice. The beach is fun.”

“Our immediate circumstances are hostile. We are going to die out here.”

“Drama queen.”

The ocean moves and Haruko dodges another glare that burns a hole two inches wide straight through her towel and the chair underneath. “You hate me,” she says, panting. “Traitor. Villain. Betrayer.”