“But there’s such a thing as too open. Too wide. Here in the dark, I’m nothing. I’m less than a smudge on the pages of the world’s history, tiny on the number line of forever.” — Lindsay Eagar Copy Share Image
“But there’s such a thing as too open. Too wide. Here in the dark, I’m nothing. I’m less than a smudge on the pages… — Lindsay Eagar Copy Share Image
“Up ahead, a line of mesas comes into view, flat as tabletops and crumbling along the edges, rock-cakes going stale, eternally baking.” — Lindsay Eagar Copy Share Image
“Bickering seems to be my parents’ only form of communication lately. Not full-on fighting. It’s more like they’re buzzards pecking at each other in… — Lindsay Eagar Copy Share Image
