Fiction | March 01, 1994

Winner of the 1993 Editors’ Prize for Fiction

This story is available via the PDF link below.

Our lives in this town are slowly improving. When Trudi grew up, in the old reservation houses, the roads were dirt and the crab factory still wheezed along, ugly and reeking. In early summer the factory stayed open all night, and the damp dirty smell of the crab cooking in its steel vats blew off the ocean, all the way to Aberdeen, even beyond, for all I knew.

“Settled on the Cranberry Coast” by Michael Byers

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