“It’s not worth prosecuting”, I was told after the detective had “lost” all the evidence. Evidence plucked, swabbed, and stripped from my shaking body—gone, and with it—my credibility. Even before that, the same detective had attempted to silence me with his shaming inquisition. And now it seemed he had won. But he hadn’t. I wouldn’t let him.
The way that I won, in spite of him, had nothing to do with spite at...
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Musings of an Awakening Spirit |
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Stories, poetry & general musings of Rebecca Haywood, a modern-day Shaman with a penchant for bringing the divine into the human experience. |