A TV flashes static from its angled location in the high back corner. Empty trays sit perching on a shelf waiting to be of use. Three evenly spaced registers sit void of cashiers. I cannot see past the swinging doors of the kitchen, and I have learned that silence does not always mean empty. I am...
I ask as Marxx paces our new loft with his anger still unspent. “Other than giving them something more to fuel the rumors of how dangerous we are?” “I really don’t care what they think anymore.” Marxx stops to stand in front of me. His tone is deadly and I flinch from him ...