The seagulls were flying in a perfect circle, matching that of the mosquitos and the deer. Nearby, the abandoned radar was humming again.
John Pugh XI is a writer/musician living in post-war Manhattan.
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by John Pugh XI
by John Pugh XI
The seagulls were flying in a perfect circle, matching that of the mosquitos and the deer. Nearby, the abandoned radar was humming again.
John Pugh XI is a writer/musician living in post-war Manhattan.