You walk on

Your viewpoint bounces up and down as you lengthen your steps. Air nibbles your neck and wrists, and cleanses your insides as you inhale. It solidifies slightly as you exhale, white puffs ┬átrailing alongside your head like cigarette smoke. The path is narrow, lined with lavender bushes on one side and a main road on … More You walk on

The death of books

Like newspapers, basic grammar skills and people who don’t own an iPhone, books are becoming obsolete. While it’s romantic to see someone with their head bent over a book like their neck has been broken, so absorbed in the eloquent words of some famished author sitting in his hut writing with parchment and candlelight that … More The death of books