April 23, 2016
The Salt of the Horizon
The air before dusk has a specific, metallic tang, like the taste of a copper coin pressed against the tongue. It is...
Month: April 2016
April 23, 2016
The Dust of Leaving
The air in an empty room has a specific weight, a thickness that tastes of dry limestone and forgotten winters. When I...
April 23, 2016
The Weight of Unchosen Paths
I keep a small, rusted iron key in a velvet pouch, though I have no idea which door it once opened. It...