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I call myself

My name is: Hanna. I call myself: broom in the plural. I call myself: yellow. I call myself: bush with buds, between which the wind strokes toward […]

Looking Up

Peter emails me a picture of the clouds, which he sees from his desk, along with the message: look at it and reflect, Hanna. I looked at the picture, […]

Red marker

Grandma asks if I want a glass of lemonade. I quickly say yes, so she disappears back into the kitchen, leaving me alone. She has put the new markers […]

Rain on a Velux

Soaking dog weather outside the walls that surrounded me. The grass in the garden had evolved from straw yellow to vivid green thanks to the gallons […]