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…andwiched between 75°F days, strip the trees of their beauty and leave them naked, dreading winter. Dried brown grass casts a depressive pallor over my existence.

Why I Love the Silent Hymn of Falling Leaves
1.4K
20

Sarah Paris

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Arpad Nagy
Arpad Nagy

Written by Arpad Nagy

3.5K Followers
547 Following

Shortlisted for 2024 Northwind Writing Award in NF/Fiction. New owner of First Line Fiction. Editor @ The Memoirist, AoE, Book Cafe, Short Place, Kitchen Tales.

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