Walking Each Other Home
Allie Gips ~ Winter in New England and night replaces afternoon, darkness wraps the streets while we are all still inside. There are no windows in the Emergency Department anyway except of course the window into this city–the stream of women with bruised arms and orbits that they will not explain, the revolving door of opiate addicts nodding off, crying out, praying for forgiveness, the chronic-pain patients who rip apart all of your idealism and ambition, trade it in for a one-time hit of oxy.