Then the interrogation began. He described “vicious verbal violence,” with his interrogators screaming, swearing at him, 'You don’t preach Christianity, you preach shit.'
A survivor craves closeness, yet sabotages even the slightest hint of it.
Always someone somewhere whose wall-kicking must be stopped.
I see her reach for the bare-chested man with the homemade tattoos and the dog that doesn’t respond.
I don’t know how the world ends, but I know fire lies.
