Cloud Herder

Sand blasts forward, hurtling up sheer rocks into the yellowing sky. Ahead, a plane escapes. Whirring blades. Pitted metal. Open cockpit. The flying contraption, a gravity defying pile of airborne junk, lifts the sand beneath into a whirling trail behind. Lumis glances up at the rearview mirror dangling from the windshield, only to see his wake get consumed by a bigger storm. A sand storm. He tightens the scarf back over his nose, snug below his splattered goggles, before increasing speed.

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Where Yonder Ends

Matthew, pull your window up.” “But Mom…”

“You’re freezing us out, pull it up.”

“But I’m feeling sick back here.”

“Then pull it up at least half way.”

Sinking into his seat with a sigh, Matthew put his cold finger on the automatic window opener. Up, down, up, down — until Dad turned the window lock on. The mountains excited Matthew for the first hour, but the winding roads were taking their toll. Even the fall leaves couldn’t lift his spirits anymore.

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America, Let’s Make Tea Time Great Again

Steam rises from a green mug of lemon ginger tea on a New Zealand morning. To my right, bumpy green feijoas, also known as pineapple guavas, fill my plate. To my left, ginger cookies wait to bathe in warm, gingery liquid. And it leaves me wondering: why do Americans not participate in this glorious routine known as tea time? Ask the average American if they know what an electric water kettle is and receive a blank stare in return. How did America fall to such a pitiful state of ignorance?

Maybe electric water kettles are more ubiquitous in America than I realize. But until I traveled to the Australia and Zealandia continents, I had never seen one. First popularized in Britain, electric water kettles boil water faster than their boring stove-top counterparts. With this magical kettle, I can boil water to exactly 175° F for my white silver needle tea and 205° F for my English breakfast tea? The Brits are on to something.

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Into Kenya

Mystery murders stalk candidates.” I stared at the bold headlines of the Nairobi magazine, Saturday Standard. The murder story engrossed a woman waiting for the same flight to Kisumu as I was. After trying to disentangle meaning from the awkward phrase, my fogged brain gave up and appealed to my friend sitting next to me. Anthony shrugged his shoulders.

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