It is an immeasurable shame to have been branded with something so public, from which you cannot escape.
I wake to a pounding at my bedroom door and my father’s booming voice: "Tell that mother fucker if he wants to show his face around here
Half my suitcase catches in the wheezing doors of the metro. I panic and pull, while a bot-like female voice urges passengers to step back from the entrances to the trains. The red bulbs blinking adjacent to the tracks blur as I keep tugging. I recall a poster