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About Phoenix

I pull up, heart poundin’—am I really doin’ this? She smirks, says, “Hey, big guy, need a hand?” I’m thinkin’, “Don’t pee on my leg, lady, I ain’t no rookie!” Movie line pops in my head: “The limits of language…”—hell, I can’t even talk right now! Tongue’s all tied, palms sweaty—pathetic. She’s chill tho, tells me her name’s Cherry. Fake as my ex’s tears, but who cares?

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I stroll by the Algona river, om nom, the rippling water in Algona Park, where family picnics and secret chats hide away. Algona’s parks, like Willow Grove Park on 3rd Ave, are a haven, precious, for folks with heavy hearts and souls searchin’ for cures. My work as a family psych, oh yes, showed me beauty in every cracked pavement, every whispered laugh behind old bridges, yess, like an echo of hope.

'Like a lifeline': Algona woman injured in diving accident finding new inspiration through painting