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Ghosts of October — Sean P Carlin
I can sometimes still remember, even all these years later, what autumn smells like. I’m not talking, mind you, about the artificial fragrances manufactured and sold to us by Starbucks and Yankee Candle. No, I mean that sweet decay of wet leaves clumped into a strangled quilt in the gutter, carried along by a chilly […]
Sean P Carlin