And One of Two Employees With a Mohawk Shaved It Off

The day is hot, my head is maybe less addled than usual.
With the urge to write, I will try to channel my possibility of doing it into telling the story of women who truly are never heard: immigrants who work under sometimes desperate conditions—this is when I am proud of my work, but only if I tell their stories well. They deserve no less.

(I have no transition.)

Like my thoughts, people are coming and going so quickly these days. Something about the summer’s heat maybe, the cycle of being present and then going, living and dying, seems accelerated. There is nothing constant but this, I am again realizing. It’s relatively sad to know that nothing will stay, but it also offers up…potential.

Do you know a band called “Iron and Wine”?
Beauty.