Reflections

January 17, 2017

The air at high altitude has a specific, metallic bite. It tastes of thin oxygen and ancient stone, a sharpness that settles...

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January 17, 2017

To move is to surrender to the current. We often imagine that we are the ones directing our path, carving lines through...

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January 16, 2017

I keep a small, rusted key in a velvet pouch, though I have long since forgotten which door it once opened. It...

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