The Frequency of Distant Things
On the third Tuesday of June in 1925, a woman in a cream-colored motoring coat stood at the edge of Callahan's Marine Rescue dock and watched a dead porpoise being hauled out of the water. The creature had washed in at dawn, caught in a gill net three miles south of Fire Island, its blowhole clogged with blood and brine. Tom Callahan worked at it with the calm efficiency of a man who had...
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