New Year’s Eve In A Junkyard: The ‘reject’ hideaway

In the shadows of the night, as a roaming light hits her face briefly, I see a pure form of beauty in her struggle, like the lines across her face connect to form a map- an untold story of the places she had been and the things she had seen. A story begetting many stories that transcend space and time, for a woman, who I noticed, does not acknowledge time.

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Omo Ale

He looked up and held up his hands with one palm outstretched, while the other was balled up in a fist except for a thumb sticking out. I looked at him again and finally found the soft, innocent eyes of a six-year-old.

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Love don’t live here.

I cannot find the God you serve and I have been known to stay out all night searching– Yrsa Daley-Ward Every night, I would wake up to my mother’s cries. My little frame would crawl out of bed and fearfully find its way in the dark to the living room, where I would find my […]

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