An archive of the old things.

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Wednesday, 21 September 2011


Darker nights spill ink across the sky and through gaps in the fences in the backyards of our houses. Darker nights spill ink that flows through the windows and blooms like flowers over all of the walls before falling like dying petals through the cracks in the floorboards to tell the basement a story about the summer that we lost and the winter that will come. Darker and darker still.

1 comment:

  1. I love your writing, and this photo is absolutely stunning.

    Shannon x