A Desk with a View.

A Looking Glass War. The stores of the archive are filed with the endeavors and notations of far flung adventures across the globe. But reviewing the endless documents from the perch of my desk, I can only feel as if it’s a dangerous place to find perspective. Disconnected as I am, it takes work not to view these as fantastic tales but as truth. A truth that I’m struggling to sort through. So many unbound threads, it’s hard to know where to start. But it’s more important to know that in these tomes are the life and soul of real people, the only last memory of those long dead, perhaps forgotten. One must be delicate as one proceeds.