I’d never seen that part of the body before. It looks so much like drawing.
Early in March, I can smell the bears turning in their caves.
I still wonder if learning to write in another language is like taking a leap into space.
Sometimes, I light candles to rekindle the flame. Or to burn the evidence.
Independent bookstores are proxies for the community, a form of literary profiling.
→ Adoption→ Bookstores→ Children's Lit→ Distraction→ Diversity→ Family Stories→ Food→ Grief→ Illness→ Money→ Music→ Nature→ Sex→ Travel→ Writerly Sins
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