Now that the planes are gone the air weighs almost nothing left out to die and rivers still trying to dodge, stalked there and
In quietest country, there’s a sound, that of yourself. The self abhors a vacuum of sound and eases forward, looking around. Between the monkey-voiced
The town we visited, Al says, remember the town—we caught a bus there. Eurithe can’t remember the name of the place, either, but she