If One Man is Allowed to Kill Democracy

An ice-laden wind howled at my back, ripping and whipping unkept blonde strands across my face. No matter how many times I tried to combat my hair’s frenzy, they demanded one last dance, as though peeking out from under my hood would somehow convey a cry for help. Bitter laughter pushed through cracked lips. Help.Continue reading “If One Man is Allowed to Kill Democracy”

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