Dangerous Compassions

what I do

“Hey, honey!  Welcome home.  How are you doing?  How was your time?” I ask Ming when he comes home.

“Great!” he’ll usually say.  Then he’ll tell me the story.

Or else he’ll be super sleepy, and I’ll comfort him and help him get what he needs to feel better.

“What did you do while I was gone?” Ming asks.

“Oh shocking stuff.  Totally shocking.  You’d be amazed,” I said.  This is our joke because I always do the same thing while he’s gone.  Write, txt people, lie in bed in the half-dark.  Just living.  Eat a snack, package up some mail.  Blog posts, zines, emails, paper letters.  I’m writing all the time, mostly.

So it’s good to have a trike and new things to do with my body that aren’t sitting in a chair tap tap tapping words out.  I suppose I’m a word addict.  Addict in the sense of–yeah, this is my life.  It would take a hell of a lot of work to stop.

When you come to a fork in the road, take it.  Or take a picture of it.  Or ask Ming to take a picture of you with it.  Yeah, that’s right.  Love to all and gmorning.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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