2024-11-02 14:36
To leave our neighborhood we drive through what still feels like a war zone, more than a month since the storm. Broken roads. Broken homes. Broken hearts. We shower in dusty parking lots full of kind people, still-shocked people, clutching our toiletry bags, receiving state-issued towels when it’s our turn. We smile at our neighbors, we shuffle and shrug, we hold each other, we laugh and cry, who knows which one will come out. Here we are.