Look up

It’s those times when you’re craning your neck to stare up into the black sky from a hammock, wrapped in a woven white blanket belonging to your best friend, and everything smells like her and childhood and sun-warmed-grass-thats-now-cooled-in-the-dark and saltwater and damp, and the voices of the neighbors and the neighbors’ kids trickle up to your ears through the night in xylophonic trills of laughter, and the dogs are barking on the hill, and you can hear waves washing onRead More