Nonfiction Notebooks
The Atlantic’s dark salty crests, the screaming children, my first cold plunge, altered my studious mood like a tonic, cleared the must from my head, and refreshed my subway-sticky skin. Here, I had arrived in a new corner of the world, loud and fresh, jolting me from my library solitude.
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The Atlantic’s dark salty crests, the screaming children, my first cold plunge, altered my studious mood like a tonic, cleared the must from my head, and refreshed my subway-sticky skin. Here, I had arrived in a new corner of the world, loud and fresh, jolting me from my library solitude.
