The Weight of the Horizon
I spent this morning trying to organize my bookshelf, pulling out paperbacks I haven't touched in years. I found a dried leaf tucked inside a travel journal from a trip I barely remember. It felt strange, holding a piece of a place I once walked…
The Weight of a Glance
I was standing in the grocery store line this morning, just staring at the back of a stranger’s coat. He looked tired, the kind of tired that settles into your shoulders and stays there for years. When he turned around to grab his wallet,…
The Weight of Ancient Breath
The air this morning tastes of damp wool and wet slate. It is a heavy, clinging cold that settles deep into the marrow of my bones, the kind of chill that makes you want to pull your shoulders toward your ears and disappear into the collar…