Justina Revolution

     My name is Lisa Cole. I grew up in Asheville, North Carolina in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Everyone always looks at that place and talks about how beautiful it is. But it’s not beautiful. It’s ugly. It’s a shiny piece of candy pumped full of poison. For most of my life it was a goddamn pit that I was born in and I thought that I would never get out of there while I was alive.      I was thirty two years old. I worked as a CNA, a certified nursing assistant. My mom was a CNA before me. She used to say that she was a certified shit wiper. Because that is what it is. If you work in a place like Carolina Cove, where wealthy retirees end up spending the remainder of their lives, you end up wiping the asses of people who have had more opportunity and money than you can ever dream of as they endure the indignities of old age and impending death. My mom worked at one of the less posh nursing homes in the county and eventually just clutched her chest a...

           Allie from Spurlock's Corporate had arrived for the promotion evaluation. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and no one was in the place save for two baristas behind the counter and the store manager. Allie was dressed in comfortable black slacks and a dark red polo shirt with the tiny little smiling harpy logo on the left breast. She was a slim woman of medium height with bright eyes and a just perfectly messy mane of hair. Smiling came easily to her and she had a sort of folksy American charm. It was hard to tell exactly where she came from. The smell of coffee permeated the shop. Spurlock's was the world's leading supplier of coffee.      Sara, a tall birdlike lady with green eyes and little wire rim spectacles chirped at her. “You must be Allie from corporate! It's just an absolute pleasure to meet you!” Allie smiled warmly and shook the taller woman's hand. Regulation cheerfulness. Just the way corporate liked em. I bet she ...

Amber and the other girls laughed at Sara Perkus. Sara was a tall, gawky girl with big eyes and messy hair. “You look like a fucking bag lady, Sara.” She hunched forward and walked faster. Ceciley chimed in: “Run lil bitch, get your skinny ass back to the homeless shelter!” “I bet your mom died of shame from looking at you.” Amber Quinn shouted. The other girls went silent and stared at her open mouthed. Sara felt the tears sting her eyes. She ran, leaving the girls far behind. The path she walked from school to home fell away beneath her pounding feet. When she got to the pine woods she ran off the path and fell sobbing into the pine needles. Her lungs burned. The spring air was warm. Being made fun of she could handle. She had endured some pretty harsh teasing over the years. But when Amber talked about Mama something inside her broke. She rolled on the ground shrieking in elemental agony. Images bombarded her mind. When Mama and she would bake cookies and knit ...