I walked the glass rows where the apples learned our names. Above me, Vesta turned like a patient wound. I planted one seed in the ash, and when dawn came, the tree had grown a leaf shaped like home.
The Last Orchard on Vesta
I walked the glass rows where the apples learned our names. Above me, Vesta turned like a patient wound. I planted one seed in the ash, and when dawn came, the tree had grown a leaf shaped like home.