Seble Bissrat
Bio
Stories (1/0)
Night Train
Silent night’s such as these remind citizens of the reciprocity this city has to offer. Sometimes you're fed and sometimes you're fed on. Tonight I walk alone and typically it suits me. I admire my breath as it cuts through the dark air, warming the surrounding particles of soot that freely float around. The rain is late this year. It hasn’t performed it’s necessary task of washing clean urine and shit, both remnants of Indian summer. The days are becoming shorter now. It’s the season when fear rides my back. I know this autumnal specter well. It hovers, feeling slightly magnetic at the space where my shoulders meet my neck. This small dip gathers my skin creating a basin for the current to sit, awaiting a quick glance back at it. I am young enough. Pretty and brown. My hands and limbs know how to run and fight when called upon, but I am scared. Not without good reason.
By Seble Bissrat2 years ago in Confessions