Marion de Booy Wentzien
Last Ride

We sped away from Mami. In dreams, I see her running, screaming. I see her black hair, long and flying. It covers her eyes just before we turn a corner. Then she is gone. We are gone, shoved into a life that has no before and very little after.

My brother ran off . . . sick of the fields . . . the sun . . . the man's fist. We'd slept together on the concrete floor sharing a blanket. I'd wrap the blanket, the side with his smell, around me, covering even my head and sleep a blank sleep until I was kicked awake for another day.

The guy in my cell does tattoos with a pin and ink. I have a heart with Mami on my chest. There's another tat on the muscle of my upper arm.

Only I know what it means.


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