The Vortex

After 7-weeks she left the vortex that was Florida. The pull of that gun-shaped black hole—the downward spirals, the death, the petty politics (savage as they are), the floods, the rain, the humidity, the heat…

After 7-weeks she’d never be the same person again.

After 7-weeks she was home.

What I’m Reading:

“I’m almost certain, though I am certain 
of nothing. There is a solitude in this world
I cannot pierce.”

—Ada Limón / “Drowning Creek”