And then there are stories I’ve left in the air like exhalation of smoke, gradually protruding fullness, and forming faint images of my nights in that shanty which used to be a hidden extension of my home; deficient in light but every being alive. They are the long and short of a different kind of escape. It is only here I feel massive and loud.
8 months ago on September 04, 2011 at 11:07am
