Turn the Page
February 11, 2019Essay by Miriam Cole
A survivor craves closeness, yet sabotages even the slightest hint of it.
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.
The soul of its scent captivates the heart of hearts.
Touch transcends the other senses, especially when the dying have lost their mental moorings.
A farmer named Amadou took him into a millet field to see a tree that was possessed.