how quickly
How quickly laughter turns to weeping smiles to dust longing, to leaving sunset, to rust.
How quickly laughter turns to weeping smiles to dust longing, to leaving sunset, to rust.
There’s a big fat sign in the corner of my blog. Have you noticed? This is the blog from the Storymoja blog this week. I have been struggling valiantly to read Dust by Yvonne Owuor. My cousin has hailed it as one of the greatest novels of its time; she says something about nuances and […]