John Berendt

Moody Mysteries for the End of Summer

  Maybe it’s the temperature, pushing people outdoors; maybe it’s the constant song of the cicadas, obscuring the sound of rational thought; maybe the haze, blurring the borders of the real and imagined. Or maybe it’s desperation that occurs during the last days of summer: a yearning for days to remain stretched, while being driven somewhat… Read More »

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