Birdsongs in winter, higher, shriller, call to hearth, home, longing a sun-warmed life. Frothy green, the winter lichen circumspect the pines, inching towards a sun-warmed death.
Why aren't scientist rushing to Gabriel Brothers to study the mysterious black hole that must exist somewhere behind its deceptive doors? [Gabes]: "Want some unbelievable rewards?" [me]: I do need a birthday gift.... [Gabes]: "Why not step inside?" [me]: *shrugs* Two hours later, the doors swing shut behind me. I have to squint to avoid... Continue Reading →