An Unfinished Requiem
My father’s old Suzuki, as old as me, as strong as his mettle, remains on the porch. Cold metallic nostalgia all covered up in seething transparent plastic, refusing to be sold. You may […]
My father’s old Suzuki, as old as me, as strong as his mettle, remains on the porch. Cold metallic nostalgia all covered up in seething transparent plastic, refusing to be sold. You may […]