VESTIGE
by Annie NeugebauerSam tipped her head back, simultaneously polishing off the tiny bottle of okolehao and watching the last of the petrels on the beach—multitasking at its finest. The bird banked in front of the sliver of moon before swooping low over the water. The sweet liquor burned Sam’s throat, and the bird caught its prey. The fish did not flap and struggle. The “survival instinct” was a true concept that had become little more than an over-applied catch phrase. Most prey in the animal kingdom knew when they were beaten and gave up life gracefully.
She pulled out her last mini-bottle, stumbling closer to the water. Always closer to the water. The smell of salt was pure and sharp, the waves crashing violently. Near midnight, the hike-access-only beach was deserted. A few yar
