The Weight of a Glance
I spent this morning trying to fix a loose hinge on my front door. It was a small, annoying task that I had been putting off for weeks. As I knelt there, screwdriver in hand, I found myself pausing to look out at the street. A neighbor was…
The Breath of Stone
The air at that height has a sharp, metallic tang, like licking a frozen spoon. It is thin enough to make your lungs ache, a dry rasp that settles deep in the chest. I remember the feeling of grit beneath my fingernails, the way the cold earth…
The Breath of High Grass
The smell of damp earth after a long climb is a heavy, velvet thing that clings to the back of your throat. It is the scent of cold stone and crushed clover, a sharp sweetness that wakes the lungs. I remember the feeling of wind against my…