Dec 9, 2020
5 min read
Crabs, Crows, and the Places We Leave Behind
What you can’t have will find you everywhere
Something landed in front of me
The street ran along the top of a high bank strangled by ancient nettles. Slick rats made homes in the bottle-brown cathedral beneath the brambles. Below, the port. And a sea the color of concrete, slapping thick and lazy against the…
