What can YOU say in six sentences?
Elroy lay under the Haida canoe studying every inch of the hatchet marks, scrapes and designs, ignoring the fact that it was probably restored with modern tools. He lay motionless for so long that Ike the security guard had to stoop down and check his breathing. Ike never chased away the Emperor Penguin that worked the bar
up the block: Elroy was a good guy and didn’t bother anyone. He was in another world, straining to hear
Inuit then Anishinabe while Lakota Sioux came to him on waves of Maya. Elroy watched the herds of hooded youngsters scuff and strut by in a hurry to get to the food court, certain their language would be the new Esperanto. He wondered if any one of them would believe the South Pacific was the cradle of the world—not that it mattered on a cold New York Sunday afternoon.