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Sandra Jean-Pierre | Digital Artist & Writer of Words.

Category: Disabled Chronicles

Disabled Chronicles, No. 291

The Void The hem of her robe caught my eye from the periphery through the plate glass. The yellow floral pattern wrestled with the egregious wind, to keep covered the curves the mischievous gusts insisted on uncovering. I’d just got done asking the deli manager to help me get a cup of water, which I was ready to pay for, when she announced that water was free. Placing the chilled, covered and strawed cup on the counter facing the window,

Disabled Chronicles, No.236

Breach Healthy summer brush choked the path in front of me. I stopped a moment, unsure if the walk ahead would be possible. As if I hadn’t taken this stroll a hundred different times already. Silly. Of course it would be possible. I pressed ahead and quickly felt something out of place. The air felt closer, the space surrounding me narrower. I slowed again and tried to find the mystery. I looked to my right and noted how the water,

Disabled Chronicles, No.68643

My body has been moved and manipulated by many pairs and sets of gloved hands over the last few months. New hands, unsure hands, cold ones, warm ones. Hands with chipped Tiffany blue polish blurred through the vinyl of the gloves, some with watches, most with no jewelry at all. I generally just lay there, waiting for them to decide on where and how much they should move or adjust or bend my arms and legs and torso, even after

Disabled Chronicles, No.2c

UPDATE: Spinraza Injection No.3: I wonder if this is what it was like to be made in the image of G-d that first time: glorious, innovative, sacred. Because what was not mentioned in all the awe-inspiring verklemptness of it all, is that it’s a bit painful and quite uncomfortable. With Loading dose No.2, toward the tail end of the wait period before No.3, there was this swath of muscle, from the back of my right calf, across the outer side,

Lazarua

© 2019 Sandra Jean-Pierre This body in silent dissension over being roused from its long assumed Final march whines aches cries from joy and pain uncertainty realizing there may be life yet left for the living… we Both hold on, scared and leaning in for the ride #SpinrazaShit #DisabledChronicles #TrueStoriesOf2019 #WakingUpMusclesHurt #IFeelLikeWalkingAround

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