Our final days grow ever darker, but winter feels far away when I turn on the A/C in the car as we set off on the scenic route. It’s strange to think I’ll never be here again. I do my best to take my time, to remember the smell of every wooden house and twirl of hair and cozy wind. This was never a way for me to escape my life back home, only a journey I knew I needed to take.
But the novelty of grey hair and almond eyes has long run out, and now I’m just a man, trying to find out where he belongs.
A mask that smiles.
Tiny bouldering wall in Blowing Rock park.
Kil’n Time, a ceramic studio where you can paint your own piece, adorn it with decorations, and sinter it in a furnace.
Scotch egg, served chilled with greens, tomatoes, and berry vinaigrette dressing. Also, deep fried pickles (sliced, not quartered) with ranch sauce. I’ve hated pickles my entire life, but these were REALLY good.
