Reflections

October 27, 2020

The blue wool sweater my father wore is gone, and with it, the specific scent of cedar and old tobacco that clung...

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October 27, 2020

We often mistake the city for its architecture—the steel, the glass, the planned grids that dictate where we should walk and how...

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October 25, 2020

There is a specific silence that follows the departure of a swarm. It is not the absence of sound, but the sudden,...

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