Notes Towards A Future Detective Story Without The Police
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We are in a room with a giant, hanging chandelier flower of glass looking — in person — like it could well kiss the top of the table. It is April. Spring has conscripted bees into something like tiny little fists to knock on all the windows and all the doors.
Notes Towards A Future Detective Story Without The Police
Notes Towards A Future Detective Story…
Notes Towards A Future Detective Story Without The Police
We are in a room with a giant, hanging chandelier flower of glass looking — in person — like it could well kiss the top of the table. It is April. Spring has conscripted bees into something like tiny little fists to knock on all the windows and all the doors.