Some wet grass, yesterday. As the years begin to pass like hours, the little things make all the difference. The summer, that season once spent running around the streets and parks of a nineteen-eighties Leeds suburb, no need for the bodywarmer with the ‘BMX’ patch stitched onto one side, in which any given day wasContinue reading “The Longest Day”
Jahdi's place for writing.
throughsilver in blog 