1. howl; wail


There are times when I’m amazed what sticks with me. I know there are some things you can’t ever forget like your first love–Anna Robinson– or the address to the house you spent most of your childhood in–4242 Red Spring Lane.

I can remember the smell of approaching rain when I lived in that red brick house that always needed some type of repairs. Some days I can still feel the thick Alabama air on my skin, as I remember the way my blood curled hearing desperate screams for help.

It’s hard to describe the way your stomach heaves when you see a helpless person or what you feel as they ululate and writhe in desperate pain, wanting to die to end their suffering and live past an unthinkable moment of torture. There aren’t words for watching a violent person run away free or for hearing the word “guilty.”

It’s more than anger that you feel when you know there’s someone out there who ended two lives, one of which is yours. More than rage and malice, there’s a desperation for justice that you doubt will ever come as your mind replays the memories of the day your life ended.

But last week I found out I don’t have to think of those things anymore. That past is in the past, they said. I can let those memories all go. They have this new technology that can say you’re innocent or guilty just from a few tests. And they found out I was innocent…like I’d always said.

Now they tell me I can start living again. Now that I’m an old man, I can have my life back.




*This  is from Merriam-Webster’s Word of the Day selection. I preferred their word and they posted it earlier.


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