Just listening to the Sarah McLachlan station on Pandora, and it's playing Tori Amos's "Sorta Fairytale." And for a flash, I'm standing in the kitchen of the Grace Street apartment in the middle of fall. The windows are open, twilight is settling, and the air begins to bite. Debating a glass of wine and smelling the cold. Filled with melancholy, but I don't remember why...and then, like a fairytale would, it dissolves into nothing more than an ephemeral shiver.
Monday, August 03, 2009
Sorta Memory
Posted by ashley at 1:06 PM
More thoughts on Grace Street, Memories, Music, Sadness, Sarah McLachlan, Tori Amos
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2 cat calls:
hello there stranger.
Hello, indeed. It's lovely to see the Wayfarer again.
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