![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() As she strips the pack, she looks over the surrounding blocks of homes with their rows of identical cinder block bungalows, each with the same slightly elevated wooden porch, the same scrubby patch of modest yard. The night is so quiet that unwrapping the cellophane sounds like a faraway bonfire. on the wooden steps of her front porch, she pulls out a fresh pack of cigarettes. A bad name for a bad place but, then, what real choice did she have? Then he taught her how to properly pronounce the town's official name – Caesura, rhymes with tempura, he said – before telling her not to worry too much about it since everyone just calls it the Blinds.Ī bad name, she thought then and thinks now, with too many vowels and in all the wrong places. If the intake officer noticed, he didn't say anything about it as he sat her down at a folding table in the intake trailer and explained to her the rules of her new home. She was four months pregnant on the day she arrived, her secret just starting to show. She's old enough, at 36, to remember flashes of other places, other lives, but her son is only eight years old, which means he was born right here in the Blinds. ![]()
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