Jennifer grew up in a place where all the important roads led to the Potomac River. It was a place where bridges blocked or began journeys. It was a place filled with changelings drifting or refusing to cross state and district lines into stranger cultures. Some left by boat or bus or brain. Others stayed, like ghosts forever haunting Hills, Forts, cemeteries, galleries, and parks. Jennifer left 20 years ago only to discover that all the important roads lead to a river, to a choice between crossing…or not. Regularly, perhaps mercifully, the moon pulls waters back and, if Jennifer is wise, she sometimes sees what she’s getting into. She is, unfortunately, not yet all that wise. All this being said, the moon remains dependable and patient, although sometimes she sighs and wags her head