The Santas became night eaters. People prayed to not be discovered in their beds, covered themselves with piles of blankets.
We slept that last night in a house, windowless and bare, floors worn raw.
We ate around the lower pieces.
He was a ground watcher as he walked. The heat of my watching lifted his head.
(The author’s name is Ryan Stroud, not Strand—sorry we can’t fix it on the video file, Ryan.)
Ryan would you like to know the following:
Ryan Stroud writes true stories about life in the wyld. The stuff too dangerous for memoir he turns into short fiction. His work has appeared in publications such as Oregon Humanities Magazine and Waging Nonviolence. Curious and adventurous minds can be entertained at his Substack, ryanstroud.substack.com.
Thank you, Ryan!
