A person named Ari

“Sure, fine, I’ll let you have your break. You look about a month overdue for one.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just sayin’, if we put you next to a raccoon in a hoodie, I’m not sure we could tell the difference.” Finn laughed again, tapping his cigarette butt on an empty cup Dan had left on the desk the day before.”
― Kel Byron, A Lonely Broadcast: Book One

“This better world—that is the world I’m fighting for from inside the whale, this world I want to be birthed into. A world that is kinder, more generous, more just. A world that takes care of the marginalized, the poor, the sick. Where wealth and resources are redistributed, where reparations are made for the harms of history, where stolen land is given back. Where the environment is cared for and respected, and all species are cared for and respected. Where conflicts are dealt with in gentleness. Where people take care of each other and feel empowered to be their truest selves. Where anger is allowed and joy is allowed and fun is allowed and quietness is allowed and loudness is allowed and being wrong is allowed and everything, everything, everything is rooted in love. And maybe that’s an unattainable utopia.But I’ve found a few smaller versions of this world—in the ground rules Liv and I set on the bus en route to meeting my family; in the grace Cara showed me when I came out to her; in the patience with which Zu mentored me. I’m not naïve enough to think we’ll reach this utopia in my lifetime or possibly ever, but I’m also not faithless enough to think that the direction in which I strive doesn’t matter, that these smaller versions of the world aren’t leading us there.”
― Lamya H., Hijab Butch Blues

“It’s alright, Evelyn,” Finn said as he lit a cigarette and tossed his head back, letting out a heavy breath. “You don’t have to explain yourself, it’s okay to admit when you feel unsafe up here. You’ve got every right to. Besides, Dan’s a good fella’ and all, but … well, I watched him get startled by a bumblebee the other day.”
― Kel Byron, A Lonely Broadcast: Book One

“Evelyn always looked like she was about ready to die at any moment. I’m not saying she was bad-looking, mind you. She was cute in an unkempt sort of way, with long red hair and freckles all over. But she also had this sickly pallor and big, sunken eyes that reminded me of a fading Victorian child getting ready to meet her ancestors in the next life. Right now, still littered with bruises and scrapes from the prior day’s shenanigans, she looked sorrier than ever.”
― Kel Byron, A Lonely Broadcast: Book One