A note in the margin
Eight on a Friday evening, the door quiet. A lake in Cameroon that held its breath for years, and the plain thing that was finally done about it, which was to give it a way to breathe out.
Eight on a Friday evening, the door quiet. A lake in Cameroon that held its breath for years, and the plain thing that was finally done about it, which was to give it a way to breathe out.