Return by Genni Gunn


by Genni Gunn


I used to stand at railway tracks, my toes against the ties, while trains approached. I held my breath as they lumbered past, tuned to the whine of metal on metal, their weight a tornado in my chest, their speed reverberating in my heart.

            “You are crazy,” my brother told me years later. “Don’t you realize how lucky you are that you weren’t decapitated?”

            He should know, transportation safety being his line of work. More...


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