16 Mar 2022

While worrying I’ll traumatize an animal with a cross-country move, I realize I am the one who’s moved cross-country and I am the one who’s traumatized, a roaming and foaming creature in the streets. I slow down to a stroll. I think about not thinking about myself.

An ornate, late 19th century brass railing spans across the foreground while in the background, out of focus, the lights of an empty, multistory arcade gleam.

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