I Am Harboring a Fugitive

I am harboring a fugitive tonight and it is the weight of social consciousness weighing heavy upon my soul. I am scared. Everyone is scared. Hurtful and hateful things are being said everywhere, constructing emotional tinderboxes that are just waiting for that spark.  Insults and derogatory remarks are printed, posted, and shared in a seemingly ceaseless stampede of social notifications.  Tragedies are daily unfolding in our streets, streets that for so long have been insulated from the scourge of violent rioting and protest, but are now left burning and curtained in the choking veneer of tear gas clouds hanging low. Even here, in this little flyover City of Wayne, usually so conservatively polite and deeply steeped in hesitant Midwestern reserve, I was tear gassed and shot …

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