I listened to the sound of a marching band playing under the rain where an unnamed storm blew its horn and the gray clouds clashed its cymbals in a cadence so ferocious the sky welled with pride while every human
A button fell from my coat, unmade and spring air whooshed afront my face abashed about a button gone small things can’t be replaced with none A man looked at the moonless sky there’s a hole in the corner and
“I’m not about big spaces,” said she grimly, mouth pursed, a little tangy around the edges. “I’m all about the small ones. Corners, the tiny gaps between the stools around the table. I’d slip into that. I’m content with the
From afar, a trumpet resounded without a tune sang a dog in a four-pawed cadence silence the trees danced along the march. Footsteps drummed in a celebration of summer like no other, the sun lit up with a smile from
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