of who wants to report the
news, anyway (?)—followed by
a dessert of chicken legs and
white rice. This was our way
to close the blinds, to put on
the blinders. But we still could
not shield our eyes from the
sun, could not stop gawking
at our bodies, at our world gone
wrong. Nobody told any of us
to go jump off the upcoming
cliff. Our shame was enough. I
danced a little jig, and all of
the survivors that I’d just met
did so, too, but much better.
And within that dance, we
locked eyes steadily, learning,
as always. The fragility of agility.
danced a little jig, and all of
the survivors that I’d just met
did so, too, but much better.
And within that dance, we
locked eyes steadily, learning,
as always. The fragility of agility.
