LongshotChapter 3
After a decade of daily travel Zuri and I were intimate with every bank and island of the river. Our bare feet had trod its thirty-kilometer circumference multiple times, leaving both of us aching to adventure farther. Finally yielding to our demands, Mother led us along an antispinward stream feeding the ringriver, heading towards the bow. The air was cool, carried on a low headwind that pushed constantly against my face, pebbling my skin with gooseflesh. Crisp, dry brown foliage snapped...