
The Constellation of Buttons
The ants pause on their journey. They see twenty or so lying dead, flattened, disemboweled, juiceless. They have come far from the pink Tin Tower to this oblong bridge that…
The ants pause on their journey. They see twenty or so lying dead, flattened, disemboweled, juiceless. They have come far from the pink Tin Tower to this oblong bridge that…