August 21st 2019. Casey A floats, not so far from the beach, in a rubber dinghy, on the low tide. The sea, I'm told, is a millpond. "No, it isn't," I say. "It's like a millpond." It is a summer's day, but the bay is empty. I'm floating in another rubber dinghy.   August 24th … Continue reading dream diaries…70 →