by Darcy Wiley | Aug 13, 2015 | Fireflies
They bring in a boombox like a weapon to send us away. Speakers shout out ugly songs, more obnoxious than loud Hawaiian shirts. A twisted face. A gruff voice. Arms crossed. Cigarette smoke clouds our space. Beer swirls with chlorine. Eyes glaze over like frosted glass...
by Darcy Wiley | May 11, 2015 | Fresh-Cut Flowers
We step out from under the canopy of trees to an open expanse of rock, a solid place to stand and admire the formations over our heads. At the side, creek water rolls over boulders and skitters through, continuing its slow chisel into the earth. I tip my head back,...