Reflections

May 9, 2016

I remember sitting in a small, dust-moted library in Fez, watching an old man handle a manuscript as if it were made...

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May 7, 2016

We are all born into a costume, a set of expectations stitched into the fabric of our days. We wear the colors...

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May 7, 2016

I burned my toast this morning, a small, charred mistake that filled the kitchen with a sharp, bitter scent. It was annoying,...

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