Your baseball glove. It’s a deep golden brown and mottled with stains. Smell the leather tinged with sweat. The sweetness of oil has seeped into…
Fionna went outside, almost on the heels of Homer and Cicero’s departure, leaving Archibald to the dying coals of the fire and the remaining…
I used to think of you often,
In the morning your ship will be sailingPrepared by your father to whisk you safeWatch the silicone…