Friday, January 16, 2026 (II)
Friday, 16 January 2026 10:42 amMy metamour hears whistles when she leaves for work today at 6 o'clock. I spend the next 30 minutes getting dressed and shoving ephemera in go-bags just in case-- the kind of human confetti that unpacks itself from the center even when you're trying to make it all hold together.
"Are we staying in or going out?"
"Staying in, for now."
We have a plan to go to the basement; we have the idea to bar the door; as if an armed paramilitary were a weather event.
As if bullets and chemical weapons were acts of God.
"Are we staying in or going out?"
"Staying in, for now."
We have a plan to go to the basement; we have the idea to bar the door; as if an armed paramilitary were a weather event.
As if bullets and chemical weapons were acts of God.