Earth Worm
autofiction: equinox edition
It is at last spring in New York, and if you look up the trees are full of pink.
Creamy cherry blossoms weigh down their branches like they do every year. It’s nothing we haven’t seen before, but the blossoms draw in the New Yorkers just as reliably as they draw in the bees.
People cluster around these influencer trees in unspoken queues, waiting their …
