Darkness, be my laundry detergent

The mirror cracks loud enough for wrists to bleed; "only one of us must remain ugly," mumbled he. Velvet-Fronted Nuthatches seem like angry birds. I have seen them enact 1950s gangster movie scenes with flycatchers and minivets. I can't speak their language but it seemed as though the nuthatches had started most of the fights. They also... Continue Reading →

To believe is to see: Southern Indian Roller

One summer night, they held hostage a darkly sky and the square root of Pi; their only ransom - a family blue jays basking in sunlight, like caramelized lemon pies. I haven't had a conversation with Tio Stib outside of the comment sections in this blog. But I feel like I know him well enough to... Continue Reading →

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