“Howard realized far too late that he was no longer standing on mud. Peering downward, he watched with a sort of dull amazement as the fog slowly receded, revealing his pale squishy toes. Howard sniffled, feeling his sinuses begin to act up. The air began to grow colder as Howard felt himself leave the ground and the warmth of the pool was left behind. A face was emerging from the water, fins first, followed by a grin that could only be described as bemused.” – Emily Kinney, author of The Island of Lote