One stood near the edge of a concrete pedestal, a forgotten vessel for pleasant inebriation and, wrapped in the incandescent orange glow of the city, a story untold. Beside the pedestal, lazily set down near a spill of tangled vines, was a partner flute – not the same size or shape, but too close for […]
Read MoreFocus lost somewhere over forgotten years, use’s quota filled with only dust pressing keys. Set for observance, glimpses into an aging past, antiquated and the bokeh for a crisp present sprung from small footprints. Letters still the thread, new needles weave words, rounder edges and softer volumes with sirens’ calls cast the world over. Pulp […]
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