Fictional Cities Where I Wouldn’t Move
My Midwestern self would need enough help to assimilate into the real NYC, let alone one where the Woman in White might attack.
My Midwestern self would need enough help to assimilate into the real NYC, let alone one where the Woman in White might attack.
Some people love it. Others feel like Grand Rapids is an inescapable vortex of Dutch bingo. Remi Wolf just helps with some comedic relief.
I can see her potted plants, and I wonder how they survive since she’s never there to water them.
Viewers are treated to close-ups of dripping jam & sizzling onions, as well as an interlude in which the two protagonists play a comical game of badminton.
It was all crisp blue water and green cliffsides, purple oysters clinging to midnight rocks.
We arrived on a warm evening and were greeted by an orange sky, salty air, and cobbled streets.
As the ghostly songstress resumes her song, you begin to hear that same voice that has been singing as part of the background noise
Life there doesn’t confuse me, but it’s no longer what I’m accustomed to. I’ve become a real city slicker.
Two monuments then, intertwined: one to wonders and another to horrors.
I spend eons meticulously rotating the rack and considering which postcard could be catered to each of my friends.
There’s always someone to wave to.