A love story imagined, a failed romance.

A cast of characters, but it’s all me, heartbroken and in love, chasing myself

Set in a dustland where there are demons to reckon with and only yourself to face, where dawn blooming is sacred and people miles away, the only other people, feel at first like murderers, probably, and then, when the stars tell us all goodnight, like faraway neighbors.

The days are blistering and the nights never really cool off, there is too much time to think but no pretense of who you are to worry about. Emotions are felt deeply, but without the usual frenzied turbulence.

The end result is deep peace in the loneliness, memories imagined then made real, mostly wishful thinking, an entire world built from the blue of longing.