Member-only story
Last year’s blackberry preserves
and the feeling of nothing in particular but
the end of the world (or the end, or
just the end of this, whatever
this is). The fragrance of pianos, the
hush of fiery wings.
Member-only story
Last year’s blackberry preserves
and the feeling of nothing in particular but
the end of the world (or the end, or
just the end of this, whatever
this is). The fragrance of pianos, the
hush of fiery wings.