The city flies past in the window of a tube. I know that going from work is, well, should be, quite great, yet even though

The den of fiction writer, poetry maker and magic enthusiast.
The city flies past in the window of a tube. I know that going from work is, well, should be, quite great, yet even though
First Floor Smell of cigarettes and dust combined Dryness of the air, papers left behind Next floor does not give any change It’s still within
Sun hitting rooftops, light shimmering off of windows, warmth engulfs streets.
Photography became Relic I spent time watching the way of photography, its perks and abysmal values. Some of my works made it to the great