The Grays

The Grays The grays are worse than the blues… At least you can write a song about the rich cobalt-feeling of sadness. The grays settle like a cloak of smoke, leaving you voiceless and dry-eyed, with nothing so satisfying as a good cry. The grays have nothing to give, not even tears. Wraith-like, they confuse […]

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Nuclear Winter

Nuclear Winter My grandmother told stories of smoke and smudge to save her navel orange groves in a Florida freeze. Sometimes her work failed. Then each Christmas she shipped a crate of oranges so thin-skinned they had to arrive fast. Fruit so flame-y orange we fell in love with hand-squeezing, licked juice from our fingers. […]

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