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Weekly Contest #35
It’s the 27th day of quarantine in the city, in the country, in most of the world. Seems impossible, sounds like science fiction, no—horror, rather, “The Living Dead.” We are the living dead. New York is a dead city. This country is dying, may already be dead. I wonder what it’s like to be young and new to the city, finding your way, hooking up, creating a life? Watching our democracy crumble? And now…a pandemic. Okay, stop running this nightmare script. Doesn’t do a bit of good. Look up! Feel the air on your face. I want to take my fa...
Trigger warning: internalized homophobia, homophobic slurs Something had happened, some words between my mother and me that winter afternoon when I was eight or nine. Sleet had pounded the windows all day but now all was gray and still. The loud voices and insistent laughter from a TV talk show ricocheted against the walls with false hilarity. Maybe I wanted something or perhaps my presence had become a burden. Whatever the specifics, the exchange escalated. When my mother reached her limit, she resorted to Yiddish, frequently an exho...
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