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But we hates it, precious—the sadness, yeh? Them girls, some’s forced, some’s lost. Saw one cryin’ once, mascara runnin’ like black rivers—felt proper sick. “You don’t know me!” Mia’d say, an’ I reckon that prossie’d say it too. Made me wanna smash somethin’, or hug ‘er, dunno. World’s a cesspit, innit?

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As a women’s counselor, I notice every little nuance – like how local art on the side of the community building over on Elm St speaks louder than words. Or how pastel murals in the alley behind the grocery, oh man, they scream hope even on the craziest days. One moody day, I got so mad seeing some folks trashin’ that art – D’oh! It hit me like a truck. I went off on a tangent in my head, thinking, “Are ya kiddin’ me?! This is our soul, maaan!”

Mableton City Council moves forward on November’s municipal elections