I went to the Tannery twice this week (the Tannery is the artists community and housing center where little Madyson Middleton was recently murdered). I had an array of feelings, but mostly can't stand some of the chatter among the newer women in class, whom I am sure I would feel fine with if this were not such a horrible time. I was sensitive to everything tonight: loud sounds, one woman's nasty vanilla perfume, chatter about boyfriends and sorta silly New Age topics. It probably would have sounded benign to me at some other time, but I was sick into my heart and had to leave class right away. I can't imagine what the child's mother must be going through.
I went over to Madyson's memorial site at the Tannery, a small ocean of flowers and candles. Just as I reached it, a huge flash of lightning crackled overhead and the lights blew out in that part of the Tannery. It seemed fitting, a bright jolt of anger.
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