sometimes we just need to get outside. stop and smell the roses, lillies, honeysuckle. unplug and put our phone on airplane mode. tuck a journal in our back pocket and tuck a pencil behind our ear. you never know when inspiration is going to strike.
The Invention of Bullets Before: one death at a time, slow. killer watches choked gurgles + wonders what is severed within- the soul or the body? tomorrow- or is it