On my way out of the closet I noticed a trunk at the edge of the bed... An antique padlock hooked through the clasp, but it was unlatched, so I slid it out and opened the trunk.
She hits the button to go live and slowly eats something. It could be anything: an apple, a banana, a small granola bar. Comments fly in, encouraging her.
How sad is to witness the deflection of someone from your own ethnicity, who breathes the same air, eats the same dishes, but is enemy to your land’s ethos?