And so it was that we snapped our last selfie along the PanAmerican highway at its official terminus, alongside boats that would be repainted and cajoled into service until their planks would seal out sea water no more. Someday, we would find the film we shot that on last day, when we hopped the watery gap between the deck of the Famiglia Santa and the dock once and for all, and heaved shut its “sliding” red door behind us.
Read moreThe Rattle of Saints and Miracles
“Our life together continued to be an exercise in the economy of movement. We sipped quietly from separate collapsible silicone cups, a luxury, but dipped our titanium sporks into the same cooking pot. We shared so much. Nearly everything.”
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