Jill Pelto

May 13, 2024 | orionmagazine.org | Jill Pelto |Emily Sekine

fromSwimming Lessons: Staying afloat in our flooded futureTHE WAITER SETS DOWN a plain white bowl with a meticulously engineered wall of rice down the middle. On one side, vegetables and meat float on top of a still pool of honey brown curry, which presses against the wall, threatening a deluge. On the other side, emptiness. I pick up my spoon. Slowly, I begin to dig. My attack steadily weakens the wall, grain by grain. Finally, the dam breaks. Curry pours through the rice to the other side.

May 13, 2024 | orionmagazine.org | Jill Pelto |Rosanna Xia

THE CRACKS HELD MY ATTENTION. Not the weathered French doors that still beckoned to the Pacific. Not the wave-battered wicker chair still airing out from the last storm. The cracks. I couldn’t take my eyes off the cracks that fractured the concrete patio like an ice sheet on the verge of collapse. This blue-shingled home, plopped right on the beach, had once overlooked a Southern California wonderland that shimmered under immaculate skies.