Things that are not okay

I’m standing on a street corner, asking a group of 20-somethings if they’ve seen a woman from San Felipe Pueblo. Her family is worried. They haven’t heard from her in two months and last week a cousin saw her in a pink-hued drug house in the War Zone. Her grandmother had called Street Safe, asking...

Hello, Mr. Spider

Monica is crouched next to me, intently cleaning a spot on the ground with a napkin. As she wipes, she chatters away, a constant stream of words that I ignore. I am busy doing paperwork, which I have told her three times. I smile and say again in a sing-song voice, “Monica, I’m not listening...