Teleporting.
The chilly, damp air encapsulates the fragrance of roasting garlic with such an acute force that I am are practically there, in the little Italian restaurant, folding my napkin across…
Sunday Stray.
A gentle pressure depresses into the back of my shin, right below the knee. I look down to find a sweet little thing looking up at me. The auburn, slender…
Indian carrots.
I am reminded of Sunday. Sunday, I ate a carrot. Local, I imagine. Organic, quite possible. The Earth crusted around the periphery gave it character, as well as the uneven…
Sky Pours & Pirated Novels.
The sky opens and the drops come sloshing down. Pitter patters alternate with dramatic rapping as the rain ebbs and flows. Rarely does it cease. Rarely does it let up. The thirsty…
