Thursday, March 16, 2017


Once she settles into her seat on the subway, Katie looks down at her hand curiously, then holds it out to me to show me two small red spots smeared on her finger.

"Pizza sauce?" I say, but it looks like blood.

She raises the finger to her mouth, then stops herself and examines her hands more closely, saying, "No, better not. What if it's not mine?"
One year ago: Kids These Days (Bike Shop Mix)
Two years ago: Digging For Copper
Three years ago: An Auspicious Start
Four years ago: Glooooom

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