There’s this smell that only exists inMilwaukee in October. The thin smoky jet of laundry after the rain. Wet leaves half-drying, half getting wet again. Open PBR cans,cigarettes, leather. A mix of youth and nostalgia, of losing somethingas you’re living it. The feeling, both terrifying and comforting, that life would alwaysbe exactly like this.
-Zhanna Slor
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