The following story was started on the eve of Cohost entering read-only mode, as an attempt to summarize our emotions, build hope for the future, and make sure we could keep our creative energy going past the end of that site. Please enjoy.
The door was locked, the apartment all cleared out, and the woman watched as one of her friends drove away with the last load of her things. Two years. Two long years of making it to the first apartment she could get with a terrace (The one thing she was constantly told she needed), of finding new friends and community... And now, the place looked as barren as the first day she stumbled in.
She looked at the kitchen, and the scorch marks on the wall from whoever lived here before her. She’d sworn since day one she’d paint over them, and still they persisted. Maybe the next inhabitant would do something. She looked at the half-open door to her bedroom. Her safe haven. The place where she finally invited someone in to know her, and found a companion who saw her for herself. Who, despite all her fears, found a way to love her.
As if on queue, a loud howl rang out from close by the apartment block. The woman smiled.
( Read more... )