Clamming
Craving clams, nine-months-pregnant Ari and her artist-magician husband Harold make a midnight trip to an urban beach. There, the moonlight conjures memories among the crustaceans, beach litter, and wandering strangers.
The moon was as full as Ari’s womb. Sky and skyscraper traced the rows of stenciled water with purple silver light. It was a dirty beach, an urban beach. The couple sunk along the cratered path, treading carefully through the trash-mined sand, the sand that nearly
boiled into glass that August afternoon.
It was night now; post garbage pick up but pre-subway halt. The white noise of the asphalt city seemed sewed to its sidewalks and a low-tide stillness fell on the flats.
All that moved were the jittery crabs, the midnight schizophrenics,
each supping with its shadow....
