Here’s a short piece inspired by the phrase “aster crack” — read as either a fracture in a star, or a split in the aster flower.
It begins as a whisper in the violet hour — a thin, luminous line running down the petal’s spine. You wouldn’t notice at first, not unless you’d spent the whole afternoon watching the asters nod in the cooling wind. But there it is: a crack. aster crack
And isn’t that the point? To bloom so fiercely that even your fractures catch the light. Here’s a short piece inspired by the phrase
Either way, the aster doesn’t fall. It holds. Cracked and whole in the same breath, offering its frayed edges to the last bee, the low sun, the first frost. the low sun