The Brick on My Chest
When I think about that day, I often think about those people. I think about how it must feel to stand on the periphery of someone else’s terror and then get in your car and drive home.
Time to Write is Always Stolen
So get used to thieving
Every time you laugh out loud, Luxon gets cramp (and other spells)
How can we ever hope to create a different world if we have lost the capacity to dream?