The Dead Now Require Airplane Tickets
- tvawna1
- 14 hours ago
- 1 min read
A Tigrayit song, exile, and the geography of remembrance. The song found me on an ordinary evening.
Outside my apartment window, traffic moved through the city in long ribbons of light. Somewhere below, a siren sounded and disappeared. Tomorrow will be another workday. I would return to my carefully constructed routines. Nothing about the evening suggested that a song could interrupt it. Yet it did. >>>>>
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