Getting Real On Grief
Flick. The sound of the red Bic lighter. Inhale. Hold it. Exhale. Breathe air. Looking out at the Bay as if it were already a black and white photograph on postcard paper with tattered edges. Sad, waves invoked the gravity of my tears streaming down my cold and blistered cheeks. Read more
Kristina Farrow
Kristina is a lover of art, poetry, philosophy, Dostoevsky (and other classic lit), everything French and Japanese, cats, the West Coast and dreams...
