A flurry of lovely things this morning: I opened my email to find an acceptance from Tina Connolly of flash-fiction podcast Toasted Cake for “Mon pays c’est l’hiver,” and my RSS feeds to find a wonderful review by Sofia Samatar of the issue of Lackington’s in which that story appears. A good day for stories about winter, homesickness, and sick homes!
But both of these pale in comparison to the…
Weeping client talking to me today. They tried to goad her companion into a fist fight so they could call the police and have him arrested, therefore she couldn’t have the procedure.
She was crying and screaming for them to leave her alone. They wouldn’t, and her companion got angry.
I told her that I have no idea why they can’t understand it. My guess is, that they don’t care about you or your partner, only the fetus that could kill you.
She was very upset, so I let her and her companion wait in my car. She thanked me and said “I’m glad you are here. He would have hit that guy if you all had not walked with us”.
She walked into the clinic tear free, but still with anti’s trailing behind her shouting. The escort presence gave her space and a buffer from the harassment.
That is why I escort. That is why I do it.
I’m very pleased to announce that the first issue of Lackington’s Magazine (the Twitter feed of which my Glaswegian keeps insisting on reading as Lackington’s Mog) is now up, with a mission-establishing editorial by Ranylt Richildis and containing stories by Kate Heartfield, Alex Dally MacFarlane, Helen Marshall, Christine Miscioni, Rose Lemberg, Erik Amundsen, and myself, with cover art by MANDEM…