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Mud

Out in the Haitian countryside we came upon, I guess, a mud puddle, but it was an enormous Haitian one and there was no getting around it. It was just the two of us, me and Ti-Jacques, and I remember …

Stripping

Blunt words are the knife that carves a lamb. I see a butcher slowly taking her clothes off. “What are you doing?” I ask, but she only smiles. The butcher continues stripping. She knows that the only currency worthy of …

The Alarm

Because I don’t believe in alarms, I awaken to words. I get dressed to the good news breaking. In fact, clothing haunts my every move, and the thought of what’s hanging in my closet is enough to keep me from …