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Wearing a Path

ISSUE:  Spring 2021


Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura,
ché la diritta via era smarrita.

—Dante Alighieri


We found ourselves without our grandfather. We found ourselves faced 
with stacks of naked women and reels of naked women. We found ourselves 

walking the long way around the pale-carpeted dining room 
which housed the never-to-be-used wedding china facing 

that seamless wallpapered accent wall of the luxurious plantation 
nestled beyond the luminous pond. We were told not to walk through the room 

because we were going to wear a path. What do I want to say? That my cousin took 
my hand and made me walk through when the doorbell rang with another offering 

of food from the cousins down the street who are not really cousins. Do I want 
to swear I could feel some moths fly up under my collarbones and beat about a bit 

to get out? Or that someone was spinning cotton candy around my chest? 

He brought wealth into our lives. He made sure we didn’t want. He wanted us 
to keep things nice. He wanted nice things for himself, and didn’t he deserve them? 

Didn’t he deserve everything? 



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