his hand reaches the river

Massimo's finger was poised above red on his multi-coloured biro like a kangaroo frozen in headlights.

We do not easily ascribe their induration to cold; but rather unto salinous spirits and concretive juices.

Now and then in the lagoon you hear the leaping of a fish[…]. And above all, ceaseless like time, is the dull roar of the breakers on the reef.