no. 102 - new orleans stroll

I saw the moment they decided. They—one small, dark, and boney person—turned sharply. Rushed and intentional, pivoted about forty-five degrees, straight toward me.

This concerned me. I thought, for a millisecond, that I must be mistaken.

As many, many odd places I have walked around the world, never* has a complete stranger rushed toward me. But before I could register fully, or move out of the way effectively, the stranger opened their mouth with a nasty sneer and sl…

We need stories like this that expose the horrors of oppression and what it does to the human spirit. We need people who care enough to try. I'm grateful to have read the work of one of those people.