Greg(ory) and (Isa)bel

To have sight isn’t always to see, if that makes any sense. An example: on my way to school, from the windshield of my father’s station wagon, I can use my eyes, these little gooey spheres of cells, to look at an animal, scurrying across the road. I can tell that it’s moving: but what… Continue reading Greg(ory) and (Isa)bel