Listening to Laurie_Thick Thicks Save Lives_The M7 to Saransk_Bringo Porkenheimer
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Listening to Laurie
Fuad opened up his apartment door to find Laurie standing there with two suitcases and a knapsack.“It’s two in the morning.”“You said you’d help me.” Laurie stepped in with her luggage and inspected the apartment. She made her way to the doorless bedroom.“I meant, like, to help you find shelter. A woman’s shelter.”“That’s not practical.” Laurie opened his closet, and then his dresser drawers. She began to unpack her things. “When you said you needed help I thought you meant someone to listen to you.”“Listening is doing, Fuad. Do you understand? If you’re not altered by what I say, then y...
Thick Thicks Save Lives
Trigger warnings: Abandonment, Allusions to suicide/self-harm, drug abuse, Drug-induced panic attack and paranoia, ViolenceWhen I lived in Thorncreek I was able to convince myself daily that this town didn’t harbor a witch. I’d walk everyday down to the pier, which led out into a mammoth manmade lake, squat on the planks, and finger the tapering wood. From the woods around the edges of the lake I’d hear a chanting, abrasive and grating, like a taunt. Thorncreek was a small town. Since my birth I haven’t left Kentucky, but I haven’t been immobile either. When I was twelve, my mother relocated ...
The M7 to Saransk
Konstantin downshifted the bus, the engine loudly protesting and shuddering along a snow-plastered roadway in Moscow. Stopping at a curb just outside the ceremony for conscripted Russian soldiers, he let the engine idle. Gripping plastic shopping bags that held their possessions, young Russians in tattered camouflage jackets looked lost, some vomiting into the hedge out of fear. A year after the Big Man declared war, most could see through the propaganda: the Ukrainians weren't Nazis and, perhaps worst, Mother Russia was losing. But there were always a few hardliners eager to start killing.St...
Bringo Porkenheimer
My breath comes out in dense fog as my warm, exhaled air makes contact with the freezing winter. It has been snowing since last night and now the ground is draped in a white blanket; it is breathtakingly beautiful yet just looking at it causes icy fingers to crawl down my back.Stepping into it is daunting as I don't want to mar the pure white with my old boots. I tread softly, gently, trying to minimize the effect of my weight on the snow. Proceeding cautiously, I make my way from the front door to the sidewalk, walking on my tiptoes.I don’t hear many birds chirping, they must be too cozy to b...