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“Apache, you say” she said, studying my face closely. Her eyes on my face pricked my skin, and I squirmed a little. “I see it,” she said after a bit. “That train was from White Mountain, where my people live. Our women play drums made from boxes like yours. But we only do it at home. We don’t do it out.”
Justin Olhipi
Amber Fraley
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That’s amazing!
Writing about abortion rights, mental illness, trauma, narcissistic abuse & survival, politics. Journalist, novelist, wife, mom, Kansan, repro rights activist.
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