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The Trogon Dish

Kent Nelson

It's hand-painted," Martha said. "Look, Aiken."

Aiken took the dish but barely turned it in his hand. "Everything is hand-painted," he said. "God, it's hot." He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his hand and wiped the hand on his trousers. They had come to the mountains because it was so hot on the coast, but they'd gained nothing.

"Look at it, please. It's lovely."