What Stays Underneath
It is 3:14 am. The house is holding its breath, and I am finally listening to the things I bury under the noise of the sun. We spend our lives trying to grow upward, reaching for light, desperate to be seen by the sky. We measure our worth…
The Weight of Indigo
There is a specific, heavy blue that arrives just before the rain in mid-July, when the air turns thick and the light loses its ability to travel through the atmosphere. It is a saturated, bruised colour that seems to pull the horizon closer,…
The Weight of Small Ambitions
I walked past a lemonade stand this morning, run by two kids who looked like they were barely tall enough to see over the table. They were so serious, adjusting their handwritten sign and checking their change with the gravity of CEOs. It made…