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Slug

3/5/20 Soft sickness—like a wilting flower still soaking up the sun—drips off of my body. My throat aches more than it has before so I now talk with a booming baritone. Any cough pinches at my vocal cords and reminds me I am (as of right now) limited. I have boundaries. My abilities are lockedContinue reading “Slug”

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Bastion

2/23/20 My back is sore from running, my body tingles with the last bits of my weekend, and Marie just turned on the space heater. “Can you do me a favor,” I ask her. “Hmm?” she asks, poking up. “Can you please get me a tums,” I ask, feeling the deep, acrid shudder that tellsContinue reading “Bastion”