Predator, prey, and vulture: And a horse
(Originally posted via Substack on April 3, 2026)
Since I was here last, I fell (spiraled) out of my posting routine. I’m struggling to get back up on the horse. So, this will be short.
I live in Minnesota and can’t proceed without acknowledging the brutality and humanity that have collided here since December. But don’t look to me.
Look to (as a start):
Immigrant Defense Network, Indigenous Roots, MIRAC, Center for Victims of Torture, Immigrant Law Center of MN, Inspire Change Clinic, Unidos MN, Haven Watch, Immigrant Rapid Response Fund, MN Immigrant Movement, CAIR MN, Inquilinxs Unidxs por Justicia, COPAL, and Community Aid Network MN.
Donate too, if you can.
About my experience, I will say, I feel a surge of Minnesotan pride. Having recently moved back, there’s no state in which I’d rather live.
To reattempt my routine, here is a snippet from my psychological thriller in progress. While I haven’t written much this Minnesotan winter, what’s taken place has deepened my understanding of systems of power and control (and resistance).
The setting is The House—a cult. The narrator is Imogene—an adolescent girl raised in The House with her best friend called Edeline (Edie).
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Edie passes me a bowl of stew. I keep it in my right hand. I extend my arm and turn my chin the other way, so I can’t smell it.
“You’ll have to eat it,” she says.
“I’ll hide it.” I look around the gym. The boys set up the tables for mealtime after prayers. We eat after them and the adults. We don’t eat if we’re in Forbear Society that day, like Edie.
The stew always burns at the bottom of the pot. Fasting tastes better. But Edie is right. Eventually, I’ll get hungry and face it.
I won’t learn how to eat without tasting until I’m older and Edie isn’t here anymore.
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We all need to control something in The House. For us girls, our goodness is the only thing we can. To be that obedient, everyone needs someone to punish. For us girls, we only have ourselves. It’s a tiring hunt—being predator, prey, and vulture. We attack ourselves, then circle and feed off our flesh for days.
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If someone took Edie, I imagine how she acted when they did. She probably acted the way all of us in The House do when we’re scared. We act good. We don’t fight. We don’t run. We don’t break things. We don’t scream or curse. Edie never stood a chance.
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To standing a chance.
From the (still) cold North, back up on the horse and writing,
K