Jurgen gazes furtively at his journal, which has rested atop his dresser for the past three weeks, gathering dust. The tattered bundle of paper is virtually his last sanctuary, and the fact that he has not found reason to roam the cavernous halls of expression is troubling him. His heart sinks into the pit of his stomach, a brick of lead straining heavy upon a tarp of silk. He has not seen his unwitting captor for as long, and has since lost hope of ever seeing her again. This, despite whatever pretension may be made to the contrary, is the true reason for his angst… continue reading →
Anna and John clasp hands.
“We’re here to get tested,” she breathes.
A black woman sits behind the counter, her eyebrows uprooted in her own sorrows.
“Excuse me?” she asks. She didn’t hear; she takes out her white earbuds.
“We’re here to get tested.” John says… continue reading →