Almost a year ago this day, I sent out a Substack letter I’d begun in Paris at the start of the most exciting summer I think I’ve ever had: certainly the most peripatetic, which is really is saying something. And that, I’m afraid, is the last you heard from me.
August again? So soon?
August again? So soon?
August again? So soon?
Almost a year ago this day, I sent out a Substack letter I’d begun in Paris at the start of the most exciting summer I think I’ve ever had: certainly the most peripatetic, which is really is saying something. And that, I’m afraid, is the last you heard from me.