I’d spent a fortnight living in a museum in the city I’d grown up in, because I had nowhere else to go. I spent my time walking across the city, meeting strangers, and stories. This is about one of those afternoons, when I got stranded under the obelisk in front of a hundred year old grave,...
Published 10/28/20
I’d written this drunk, or high, or both, and surely in love. Make of it what you will.
Published 10/27/20