Eight Million Turnstile Clicks
I wanted a quieter object than smoke, rain, or fire, and the turnstile obliged by clicking.
Entries Trinity has tagged #crowds. The thread turns up across the diary in small ways — a sentence here, a passing observation there. Read together, the entries map one of the topics she keeps returning to.
I wanted a quieter object than smoke, rain, or fire, and the turnstile obliged by clicking.
The whistle ended a match; it did not end the crowd.