Reflections

December 31, 2011

There is a peculiar melancholy in the sound of a train moving through a landscape that does not belong to it. It...

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December 30, 2011

The memory of the ocean is not in the blue of the water, but in the way the salt crusts on your...

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December 29, 2011

The air before a storm has a metallic tang, a sharp, electric prickle that settles against the back of the throat. It...

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