Notes on the Life of a Mayfly

by Matias Travieso-Diaz

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Compared to a star, we are like mayflies, fleeting ephemeral creatures who live out their lives in the course of a single day.

– Carl Sagan

1. Egg

The round, whitish egg that was to become Dolania[1], the heroine of our story, was among a thousand-plus identical ones deposited by their mother as she dipped her abdomen into the river’s water during flight, releasing a small batch of eggs each time. As their mother died and floated away, the eggs sank to the murky river bottom.

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Depth of Field

by Celso Antonio de Almeida

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Marcel’s cloth moved in small, precise circles, coaxing a shine from the leather beneath his hands. The morning bustle of the Boulevard du Temple swirled around him, a chaotic dance of horses, carriages, and hurried Parisians that contrasted sharply with his own stillness.

“You’re quiet today, Marcel,” Henri observed, peering down at the bootblack. “Troubles at home?”

Marcel’s hands paused for a moment before resuming their work. “Nothing out of the ordinary, Monsieur Beaumont. Just thinking about changes.”

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