At other times, it would seem that the sea itself had gone away. Herculis was surrounded by an archipelago, which local chroniclers had claimed was teeming with mermaids. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple.
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