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Milla Brown You are looking for a place to live. One comes furnished–big rooms, lots of light, no holes in the walls. At the mere price of your left leg and a sliver of your soul. The second grows unrecorded forms of fungus from the carpet. For the price of every meal you ever wanted to afford. It’s pay day. You glance at your balance. It’s in overdraft and they will be coming to find you. Best to bury your head in the sand. You grow jealous of the trees as you wander

Pluto Rennie There is a correct way to be disabled. No one tells you outright. There’s no handbook, no neat list of expectations. But people recognize it instinctively—and, more importantly, they recognize when you fall short. Consistency helps. You should look the same every day. Your body should tell a clear, continuous story. Fluctuation confuses people. It invites interpretation, and interpretation invites suspicion. Last year, a friend of a friend—someone I’ve never ac