Seeing Life in Black and White

As I wheel back home

Photo by Mark Tulin

There are too many thieves. They had already taken my legs, stole my breath — swiped my words before they left my tongue

That’s why I talk very little, wary of who I speak with, and make sure my eyes avert a stranger’s stealthy gaze

I don’t want to be distracted by the shady — then fleeced, hijacked, or stoned — I want to get…

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