
“Maybe this meant something, maybe it didn’t.”
“Maybe this meant something, maybe it didn’t.”
Cars wait at the light. You are at the breakfast table in bare feet, wearing Jillian’s robe. A woman in a heavy coat labors onto the bus carrying all her things, a line of riders shuffle behind. Brakes release.
Tidings of Magpies is a labor of love. We appreciate anything you can contribute to keep it flying.