On one sweltering, late-summer afternoon in Pennsylvania, the kind of day that invites a certain dreamy idleness, my grandfather taught me how to make clouds disappear.
From Issue 20: "The prayer Sally Hemings’s mother teaches about boys named Thomas" by Nia Dickens (Fiction)
When the king tides flooded Waikiki and box jellyfish floated along Kalakaua Avenue, I failed to understand that it had anything to do with me. But two years later, when the number of applicants to the private high school where I was principal had declined by nearly fifty percent, I began to feel the stings...
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