Non Fiction
workings
I felt a surge of shame.
My husband sitting behind his computer at the desk, and my son perched next to him plunking away of the keys of his own plastic laptop, I saw our 21st century equivalent of “workings” in action.
Oh we of prematurely sedimentary ways.
My husband sitting behind his computer at the desk, and my son perched next to him plunking away of the keys of his own plastic laptop, I saw our 21st century equivalent of “workings” in action.
Oh we of prematurely sedimentary ways.