It was the summer of 2004. I was living in East Tennessee, in a house on the edge of woods, at the halfway point on a mile between a mental hospital and a sewage plant.
Someone knocked on my door, and I knew it had to be trouble. I wasn’t expecting anyone, it was after midnight, and not many people knew where I lived.
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dogo barry graham
author, poet, journalist, zen buddhist monk in glasgow. socialist, for scottish independence.