It’s August; we’re still here; Summer stole Spring’s rite of passage. We waited while experiencing the four-corners of isolation. Our hibernation feels eternal. I’ll never understand the mechanics of time.

Every Moment is a Story.
It’s August; we’re still here; Summer stole Spring’s rite of passage. We waited while experiencing the four-corners of isolation. Our hibernation feels eternal. I’ll never understand the mechanics of time.