“I’m going to charge you for making photos of my restaurant,” smirks a Dutchman as he pushes the service door open and walks onto the sidewalk. A waft of coffee beans and the sound of clanking dishes escape narrowly with him. He is outfitted in all black except for the colorful sleeve tattoo running up…

I tiptoe through the shallow waters, clench my arms to my chest, and squeal as whitewater crashes into my bare stomach. I wait for an unbroken wave to arrive and then— sink under like a desperate prayer. Saltwater rushes around my ears, into my nose, down the back of my throat. It soaks my day-old hair into submission, sweepsmy body into…