Reflections

August 4, 2018

The air at high altitudes has a specific, metallic bite. It tastes of nothing and everything all at once—a sharp, cold needle...

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August 4, 2018

The smell of sun-warmed dust always brings me back to the garden gate of my childhood. There is a specific sound to...

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August 4, 2018

I once sat with a woman in a village in the high mountains of Georgia who had spent her entire life in...

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