All years are strange in their own way. I recall in 2017, after reading another, “this was the worst year” essay thinking, maybe all years are bad in their own way. Maybe there was never a good year. There were only the years when we were more ignorant, more blind. There are only the years we can pretend we are not spiders hanging precariously off a cli…
© 2024 Lyz Lenz
Substack is the home for great culture