#< !!!!!

[starscelly]

(x)

[folksingerslob]

not to be too proust_swannsway_insearchoflosttime.txt on main, but fresh mint leaves always transport me to the bottom of the steep hill my great aunt edna’s trailer sits on somewhere near preston county, west virginia, at the family reunion, creeping around the drainage ditch with distant cousins to pick leaves off the wild mint plants and chewing them as the sun sets and the grass stains on our clothes are getting comfortable, the cicadas and crickets and peeper frogs singing in a sweet summer chorus that reverberates through humid air, and chiggers are on the offensive and some great uncle or another is drunk and playing guitar and everything is the best that it can be and I’m 9 and so invested in the moment in that unaware way kids tend to be