The Small Moments That Save Us
The real magic, though, came from the train. It was suspended from the ceiling, circling the stores and shoppers like a merry watchdog, a symbol of the old city, when industry was in full bloom.
I Miss What It Was Like When Nothing Hurt
My palette has changed, and I’m not in the same 23-year-old place that can learn to love disaster. I’m elsewhere else I turn back and that’s nowhere I want to be. So: here, another quitter, dreaming of those magic dream days filled with haze, when nothing hurt.