from “Women Who Sleep With Dogs”
Loneliness seeped into each windswept, prairie day until Cat could almost finger the sadness that clogged her throat, and feel its shape, a cold desperation that was hard like stone
Write Idaho
from “Women Who Sleep With Dogs”
Loneliness seeped into each windswept, prairie day until Cat could almost finger the sadness that clogged her throat, and feel its shape, a cold desperation that was hard like stone