Barbara Sabol Photo: Auntie P I found them afterwards, clearing out her dresser drawers. Folded, still in tissue that had yellowed but held its crease, nearly sleek as its forgotten contents. Tissue fluttered open as I lifted them like lost parcels unwrapped, fragile.
-
-
Recent Posts
Recent Comments
Archives
- August 2019
- July 2019
- December 2018
- September 2018
- July 2018
- May 2018
- February 2018
- December 2017
- October 2017
- August 2017
- July 2017
- March 2017
- November 2016
- October 2016
- July 2016
- May 2016
- March 2016
- November 2015
- October 2015
- June 2015
- May 2015
- April 2015
- January 2015
- December 2014
- November 2014
- September 2014
- July 2014
- June 2014
- May 2014
- April 2014
- March 2014
- January 2014
- November 2013
- October 2013
- September 2013
- August 2013
- July 2013
- June 2013
- May 2013
- April 2013
- March 2013
- February 2013
- January 2013
- December 2012
- November 2012
- October 2012
- September 2012
- August 2012
- July 2012
- June 2012
- May 2012
- April 2012
- March 2012
- February 2012
- January 2012
- December 2011
- November 2011
- October 2011
- September 2011
- August 2011
- July 2011
- June 2011
- May 2011
- April 2011
- March 2011
- February 2011
- January 2011
- December 2010
- November 2010
- October 2010
- September 2010
- August 2010
- July 2010
- June 2010
- May 2010
- April 2010
- March 2010
- February 2010
- January 2010
- December 2009
- November 2009
- October 2009
- September 2009
- August 2009
- July 2009
- June 2009
- May 2009
- April 2009
- March 2009
- February 2009
- January 2009
- December 2008
- November 2008
- October 2008
- September 2008
- 0
Categories
Meta
© 2008-2024 PUBLIC-REPUBLIC.NET