Love . travel . write . eat
The last time I was in Montreal I was 20. I went to visit five of my favorite guy friends whom I'd met the previous summer in Wildwood working at the T-shirt shops that lined the boardwalk-- they were guys who lived in Montreal, but worked during the summer at the Jersey shore. When they... Continue Reading →
It was late August. She lay down in bed for a long while in the morning with Henry, feeling the start of the day already heavy with heat and humidity. The cicadas were singing their summer song in a woosh through the trees. It was a perfect day for the cicadas; still and warm, and laden with the quiet tick of timelessness.
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