Botanical Mystery
The rain tasted like rust. It hammered against the corrugated iron roof of G Catedral da Lua Negra, a constant, insistent rhythm that mirrored the frantic beat of my pulse. Lisbon clung to me, slick and fragrant with wet stone…
lost world
Read MoreBotanical Mystery
The Weaver’s Lament
The rain hammered against the corrugated iron roof of Ephemeral Echo, a sound like a thousand frantic fingers drumming. Steam fogged the single window, blurring the neon glow of the city outside into a hazy wash of bruised purple and…