The Story of Another Us
chapter fifty-five: waiting
It is the election day. After all those months and weeks of campaigning, it all comes down to this day. Basking in the sun, walking in the slums, giving speeches at gymnasiums, and standing on podiums making promises politicians themselves hope they can keep. The harsh attack of the light boxes of the reporters, the mics pushed against chests for an interview, and the always overwhelming interviews, intruding, triggering, always finding a way you may slip on words that will bring you down.
It could be the day we will finally stop watching our steps. It could be the day we will no longer finally chew our words before spitting them out. No more white shirts. No more sleeping in vans. No more looking behind shoulders because you may get s
