"This is a fruit of every season which carries the scent of its travels..." My grandfather often repeated this little phrase to me when he was talking about his clouds. He has the best collection of ... [+]
By the time you knew love, The Rent-A-CD shop had become a branch of state government, demolished, like the rest of your city, in a summer that stretched into nearly a decade of detours. It's ten years since you last saw Beth, at a juice joint that promised so much but only gave you wheatgrass. She told you she was reading The Five Love Languages, bought it second-hand on Barrack. She went through them, one-by-one, and you wanted to say, ‘they're all just acts of service.' You told your sister, Tristan, this same story, and she shouted, ‘God, you love her!' An exciting revelation but years