Reflections

October 3, 2022

The scent of bruised apples always pulls me back to a kitchen floor that felt like cool, uneven slate against my bare...

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October 3, 2022

I keep a small, wooden box in my desk drawer that smells faintly of cloves and dried bark. Inside, there is a...

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October 2, 2022

The city is a machine that never sleeps. It demands movement. It demands the rhythm of feet against concrete, the rush of...

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