I remember looking at a picture of a farm when I was a boy. It was an old photo I’d found in a box in my grandparent’s attic. It was cold and dusty and I knew I really wasn’t supposed to be there. And yet, in my hand was another world. I fell into it and, ever so briefly, I was warm and there were birds in the thick summer air. The grass was lush beneath my feet. This was another universe that had been sliced paper thin there in my palm.
This then is my collection of slices. Enjoy.