I remember the back of my uncle’s head. The smell of the cigarette he smokes, wafting through the window. His red neck in the driver’s seat my knees brushed up against the back. Going somewhere, as a family. I am starting to make promises to God and placing strange things that I find upon the …
Alright. We’ve figured out the source of my varying afflictions: I’ve got bronchitis. Cheers. It certainly explains the foggy week I’ve had. Not the best—and certainly it did not end as such. However, I came home to find a ring-necked dove eating the chicken scratch laid out in my yard, and that was rather nice and …
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The Wild Heart of Life 