When I know something, I think I own something.This is about getting what I want, not a phone ringing for me nor the sound of a motorboat in the deep of night, but a sound from my childhood. It is lazy and pure, like stepping off a ledge, and is held, just above my memory that I have nothing at all.
I thought the idea of going to Detroit in the middle of winter was exotic.
It would be bitterly cold and there might even be some snow.
In a world hushed by snow.