LittleLottexo

when she first tells you that it's time for her to leave you will walk into the forest climb inside the hollowed sequoia you call home and scrape away the rotting bark with your teeth you will hum over the static of the geiger counter test the carbon and nitrogen in the soil and look for atrazine in the water you will build a fire so warm a fawn will come and rest by its side she will not you will wade out into the ocean, deep past buoys and bottom trawling nets to understand the need to stand still when the waves remind you that no matter how far you stretch your legs this is not your home you will check to see if you planted enough mil

when she first tells you that it's time for her to leave you will walk into the forest climb inside the hollowed sequoia you call home and scrape away the rotting bark with your teeth you will hum over the static of the geiger counter test the carbon and nitrogen in the soil and look for atrazine in the water you will build a fire so warm a fawn will come and rest by its side she will not you will wade out into the ocean, deep past buoys and bottom trawling nets to understand the need to stand still when the waves remind you that no matter how far you stretch your legs this is not your home you will check to see if you planted enough mil

It was apparent that my sense of danger was lacking by the age of three. That year, we were on one of our many plane rides home from my grandparent's home in northern Canada. Close to arrival, we became entangled in an unexpected snowstorm. Visibility was poor and the wind had a mind of its own. The flight attendant tried to sound calm as she alerted us of the "unexpected turbulence" (in case we didn't already know) but it was clear that landing safely would be a challenge. Movement sickness came in the form of 300 foot drops in a millisecond. Some held brown paper bags tightly around their lips while others silently prayed, but not me. I lov

when she first tells you that it's time for her to leave you will walk into the forest climb inside the hollowed sequoia you call home and scrape away the rotting bark with your teeth you will hum over the static of the geiger counter test the carbon and nitrogen in the soil and look for atrazine in the water you will build a fire so warm a fawn will come and rest by its side she will not you will wade out into the ocean, deep past buoys and bottom trawling nets to understand the need to stand still when the waves remind you that no matter how far you stretch your legs this is not your home you will check to see if you planted enough mil

La historia del mundo está llena de guerras e historias de violencia. Mi historia, sin embargo, es diferente. Nadie escribirá de la guerra en la que he vivido. Nadie escribirá de las batallas silenciosas que he luchado. Nadie más que yo. Hay un museo en Santiago, a dos cuadras de la casa en que vivía en mi niñez. A pesar de que estaba tan cerca, no había ido al museo hasta que mi clase fue de viaje allí. Había una exposición sobre nuestra ascendencia dominicana y estaba completamente hipnotizado, pero algo no estaba bien. En la primera mitad de la exhibición, había artefactos de nue