The Salt on the Skin
The taste of a humid afternoon is always the same—a thin, metallic tang of river water mixed with the dusty sweetness of roasted earth. I remember the feeling of grit under my fingernails, the kind that stays long after you have washed your…
Pick a Door by Jana Z
These doors are actually opening to a cliff - there is nothing behind them but steep wall. Not only they catch the eye for the blue color and obvious age, they also make you think how and why these were built. It's one of those nonsense things…
The Path We Walk Together
I was walking home from the grocery store this afternoon when a group of neighborhood kids started following me, just for a block or two. They were laughing about something I couldn't quite hear, their voices bright and sharp against the quiet…