Dublin, still, as I write this. The city is cold, but the ache has ebbed from my face and feet. The thrum of sunshine has abdicated to the pretender of sound, from the road below and the aircon unit perpetually clearing its throat.
The Bloodless Coop
Dublin, still, as I write this. The city is cold, but the ache has ebbed from my face and feet. The thrum of sunshine has abdicated to the pretender of sound, from the road below and the aircon unit perpetually clearing its throat.