"Your hand rested on mine. I could feel the summer perspiration rolling off your skin. Salted popcorn taste clung to the air. Our lips. Dull hums of an engine behind. The screen crackled and we could feel the reel rolling before us. Rolling. Rolling. Projecting faces long gone into the night; pulling us into another world, another time. Yet your hand kept me grounded. Kept us there. Kept us watching. Listening. Feeling. Until the reel flickered, clicked, faded into black."
Black vinyl on black textured cardstock that has been saturated with coffee bean oil.
"The world before us is a postcard, and I imagine the story we are writing on it."
M A R Y E. P E A R S O N