Friday, November 9, 2018

Today's writing


We introduced ourselves in that awkward way of people who perhaps should know each other’s name but don’t. My hand in his, shaking. There was a fire burning that day, scorching the nearby hilltops of Escondido to the north. It might as well have been in the parking lot of the shelter, that’s how much ash was getting dropped and wind was getting whipped and the air was chokable, practically chewable, but hardly breathable.

“You’re new, huh?”

“To this earth, no. To this place, yes.”

When he laughed, I decided I liked him.


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