Dangerous Compassions

three stressors


Yesterday we walked to the drugstore for candy.  We were holding hands like usual.  Ming has been wearing his hair down lately, and people mistake him for a girl. 

There were two older guys outside the drugstore, and one of them said, “You’re in love, huh?”

Ming didn’t answer, so I said yes as we kept walking.

“How long has it been?” he asked, and I didn’t say anything.  Inside we bought the candy and I was hoping the guys would be gone by the time we got outside.


I was serving on the soup line.  I was pouring hot tea into styrofoam cups and asked someone who said good morning, “How are you doing?”

“Bad,” he said as I poured his tea.  “Of course I’m bad.  I wouldn’t be in this line if I wasn’t doing bad.  That’s the only answer you could get.”

“Some people say other things,” I muttered as he walked away.


Our friend was leaving town.  He knocked on the door of the house we’re staying at.  “I’m taking off,” he said.  “I’ll catch you on the rebound.” 

He hugged us goodbye.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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