All day I have stuffed my ears with music like soaked cotton; now, the gentle thrum of distant construction, the drift of passing traffic, and the quiet afternoon breeze feels like my eardrums exhaling.
Small stone, Vol. 2, #3
Posted bySamuel Snoek-BrownPosted inA River of Stones, music, small stone, writingTags:A River of Stones, music, small stone, writing
Published by Samuel Snoek-Brown
I write fiction and teach college writing and literature. I'm the author of the story collection There Is No Other Way to Worship Them, the novel Hagridden, and the flash fiction chapbooks Box Cutters and Where There Is Ruin. View more posts