A Haunted House and Dying

Today, I placed my forehead on the keyboard and typed the letter j a hundred times.  With my nose.  The tip of it.  Something soothing in the motion.  I never loved the letter j and yet here I am, a stream of jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjs across the page. I was supposed to water my grandmother’s roses today, …

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Re-Directed Anger: To All My Armchair Warriors

I was looking for my anger over the last few days, wondering why it wasn’t here.  Anger about my community.  About what we are all going through. To be honest, though, I speak from luxury.  I really do.  I didn’t lose a home.  I didn’t lose family or friends in the shooting.  I am still …

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