Infinite arcs
The south coast. The sun arcs overhead. Waves rolling out like freshly floured pastry on the shore. The ancient traditions of worshipping on the sea …
The south coast. The sun arcs overhead. Waves rolling out like freshly floured pastry on the shore. The ancient traditions of worshipping on the sea …
We’re all broken angels. Everyday we try to do a little better, or maybe just hang in there, and everyday a little more chips away. …
Imagine … it’s late at night here in Wellington and I’m sitting in bed working on my laptop. At the same moment it’s morning in …
Tag: angels