A Place of Quiet Objects
If there’s anything that you must hold on to for dear life, it is your memory. It is a reminder of a life lived, albeit etched with suffering and hardships.
For the Love of Words
If there’s anything that you must hold on to for dear life, it is your memory. It is a reminder of a life lived, albeit etched with suffering and hardships.
The evening runs its course. What remains of the plump boys loitering in the playground are slender silhouettes that look as uneven cutouts from a cardboard sheet; contours of everyday objects further tapering off from their earlier shapes to a stream of black.