I don’t have any great words to use here… one again Rara’s words have left me hurting in shared grief over the depth of her loss. Read on and leave messages of love as you can.
After pausing last week, we continue now with post 4 of 6 in the series of poems and prose that Rara sent to be shared with the Stories community. Each posting brings us a bit closer to her release from jail… If you can, and you haven’t already, please donate what you can to the Rara Relief fund. Every little bit will help her get back on her feet.
We bought an ampersand stamp
At a fruitstand & fair in Nevada.
It was Wednesday, and her name was Wednesday
and I couldn’t resist the charm of the coincidence.
She made custom rubber stamps,
pressed into perfect wooden cubes. Anything
you could ever want to imperfectly – repeatedly
impress onto paper,
formed in a few hot, citrus-scented minutes.
I blinked at him, wearing his favorite smile
and he heard by mind, and responded.
“There’s a Wednesday every week, and –
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