abigail_and_bean

It's 9 o'clock on a Saturday- 9:00 AM, that is, when Mom made lemonade for the annual summer party at our house. Fresh-squeezed lemonade. It is sitting in a cooler on the small table in the tiny house in our backyard. 

It's quiet. Just the rumbling of the car. My friend is asleep next to me, their head on my shoulder. I open the windows. The breeze is nice and cool and rustles my hair. As soon as the window is open, it reveals the sound of crickets.

Dear Canada, 

You do not belong to us. 

You never have. 

And I really, really hope you never will. 

You are your own country, but I know I don’t have to tell you that. 

What if

I could be a real actor

What if

It doesn't matter if my name sounds like a big-movie-star name?

What if I'm delusional?

What if I don't really care?

I wasn’t sure

how many people would be there

it wasn't the biggest protest in the state,

the one that we went to, that is.

we think

about

(at least)

500 

people came.

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