Love, Departed
Emily Devane Writer’s Note: This piece started with a voice, and a feeling: I am looking for the key to the drawer […]
Emily Devane Writer’s Note: This piece started with a voice, and a feeling: I am looking for the key to the drawer […]
Emily Devane Always, the sun shines and the black telephone dangles from its cloister wall like a stricken beetle. Always, […]
Emily Devane This river is a careless mother. She sets out with good intentions, singing The Hills Are Alive at the top […]
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