This must be the place: ‘And faintly bouncing ‘round the room, the echo of whomever spoke’
The power of water. Today was a rough one.
To preface, I’ve been entirely caught up in the chaotic whirlwind in the aftermath of Hurricane Helene, whether it be with my journalist hat on interviewing flood victims or simply being a distraught resident of Western North Carolina.
This must be the place: ‘Cast upon a beach town, Winn Dixie cold cuts thieves highway hand me downs’
Right now, there are a handful of old cardboard boxes in the back of my girlfriend’s car. Inside the boxes are several dusty photo albums of Sarah’s past.
