"Alas, laid on the grass how small, how insignificant this thought of mine looked; the sort of fish that a good fisherman puts back into the water so that it may grow fatter and be one day worth cooking and eating. I will not trouble you with that thought now, though if you look carefully you may find it for yourselves in the course of what I am going to say." -Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own

Whatever Used to Grow Around Here

November 13, 2012

Order your hand sewn copy of my debut collection of stories right here!

No comments yet