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What is Bittersweet People?

by Marco North

unravelling

There are two mourning doves that live in the courtyard. My desk faces them, tucked up against the big windows. In the morning, they sing soft and low. I see their shadows flit across the walls, as they land on a collection of poles, beaks turned under wings as they whisper to each other.
by Marco North

the dog

The sun on my heels, I feel a profound sense of satisfaction, with what might be a good bottle of wine dancing around in the bag on my shoulder next to some surprise pastries for dessert.
by Marco North

A man escaped

Sometimes, we predict the future by accident. I could claim to be just a little bit psychic if I wanted to, but no - I am not. I just think a lot about what might be, about what is buried deep down in the cards as they get shuffled on our darkest nights.
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