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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & Owner
Ray Rasmussen, General Editor

Volume 13, Number 1, March 2019

Constance Bourg
Bredene, Belgium


A wind drags over the surface of the sea and tinges my nostrils with silt. Cream froth curls over the grainy sand. I stand close to my sister. Our mother moves back slightly, clutching the camera with both hands. I tug at the lid of the small plastic vial in my hand, but it is stuck. ‘Hurry,’ my sister says, ‘so they don't see us.’ We deliberately picked a day outside the autumn holidays for our ceremony, but today a beached whale has attracted other visitors, and some are walking towards us. I twist harder, the plastic creaks, and the lid pops open. I crouch down and sprinkle our father’s ashes in the sand where it forms a long undulation. I take my sister’s hand and we watch the surf take the ashes.

grey waves
my father’s smile
washed away



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