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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