End of the Line

The man without a city-state
The man without a city-state

Years ago when I wore a young man’s clothes, I was deported from the Republic of Boulder. They marched me to the border, stripped me of my membership card and my bell bottoms, and cast me out to wander alone among the heathen.

By john van becay
01/30/2020
End of the Line: Room 535
End of the Line: Room 535

I head up the hall on the fourth floor chemo ward. I notice a group of doctors outside my sister’s room. Anxiety builds as I walk toward them. As I approach closer, they begin to disperse, nodding at me as I enter the room. I take up my station alongside my sister’s bed. She is sleeping. 

By Burt Baldwin
02/27/2020

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