Context Free Words: Wednesday, October 8, 2025

The High Desert sneaks up on you, but the ocean commands. Cold breezes offset hot suns. It is the eighth of October. Tonal shades of blue, a half-dozen in all, spread from the rocky shore to the soft curve of the Earth. That horizon is really there, isn’t it?

The sky is broken by the wave spilling over into whitewash and a single grey Naval warship with no war to go toward. The training maneuvers nothing more than a performance pushing the captain and crew closer to the line where the sea water might fall off the edge of a flatter planet.