This is just a short post. Think of it as a musical interlude.
“I Wanna Be Adored” feels like a cold winter evening, a cool spring morning, ice crystals, fresh green grass.
It feels like a clear, beautiful moment. I want to savor it, so I listen to it over and over and over again.
Oh, man. I wish I’d been at Spike Island. At the concert, I mean — not at the chemical factory.
Sally Garnatah writes silly things. Some of Sally’s stories are true. For legal purposes, consider all of these posts to be … autofiction, if you can stomach that kind of quasi-pretentious literary stuff. Sally doesn’t read autofiction, though. She’s too much of a country girl. You can find her down by the Tennessee River, out in the woods, standing in a sorghum field — or you can find her right here, on her blog. View all posts by Sally
Jamais Mayville