Emily came at night. She began with a timpani of thunder. At first, I survey from the corner of my verandah, until the blowing rain chases me indoors. I listen to her pummel my neighbor’s steel roof, as if taking a mallet to a steel drum, whaling on it like a wicked auntie with a [...]
Letters from Grenada
confessions of a reformed tourist
Posts tagged ivan
piscesinpurple [at] gmail [dot] com
