#SouthernWriters

  • “So What?”

    They always said time was linear, but in Remington, it folded like bedsheets– neat on the outside, chaos in the corners. I saw ghosts in military fatigues and grandmas in Sunday hats walking side by side down fog-drenched streets. And my father… he was dancing like he was in his youth to Louis, “A kiss…

    Read more →