I took a walk under the feather-duster palms and spotted a pair of manatees swimming in the Deering Estate park. They looked like tires bobbing in the water (and sounded as if they had caught a cold, judging by their phlegmy snorts).
Storm clouds bubbled on the horizon. A group of men in tuxedos were setting up for a party at the Deering mansion--hustling around with silver trays and bottles of wine.
I stood under the porch and looked up (not at stars...but at conch shells pasted into the ceiling)...
...and petals twisted into wrought iron.
"You have to leave now," said one of the tuxedo-dudes. So I turned and walked up the path. A silver fox darted into the bushes. I looked for him on my way back, but he had vanished with the breeze.
He keeps his secrets and so do I.