nowme takes the pics & i write the stories

Tonight would be the harvest moon, freedom soon come. Simone would climb the narrow flight of stairs to her roof for access to a wide swath of uninterrupted Brooklyn sky. That was the only way to be sure it was time.

A week ago, on an abandoned stretch of subway track, her brother Silus gave the instructions, “Tie your curtains to the left.” Mother Moon would then know who wanted to escape the pussy-grabbing tyranny of the vacant-eyed mass of deplorables. Simone pressed her headphones to her ears to block their torrent of abuse. Time to fly.