NS-CR

~***~ The coolly humid mists of late morning had quickly drawn back in reflecting folds for the success of the hot daylight overhead, and, at its peak temperature, Senna had begun to feel her extended flight catching up with her. The clown ship’s design mechanics had demanded her regular finesse, and, combined with the burning ache of her upper back muscles with the cloudless heat that cohered to her exposed shoulders, there wasn’t more than a moment's pass that she was unaware of her body. For hours, there was nothing around to catch her eye except for the even rippling of the ocean surface and the tints and flashes from optical