1711 c/o Russ Woods


I have been the Tuscarora War for years now. Ever since my cousin's wedding. I got drunk and danced like a bedsheet caught in a stiff wind. It was wonderful. Everyone was drunk except the children. The children all fell asleep on the pile of coats by the door. A pile of children on a pile of coats. Nobody could leave until the children woke up, because nobody wanted to leave their coat, which was good, because we were all too drunk to drive. I woke up later that night and I was a child who had fused with five coats. I could lift all my sleeves up and move them around like ten extra arms. I fell asleep again and woke up early in the morning as the Tuscarora War. I stretched my troops and scratched my battles and looked in the mirror. I thought I could go to sleep and wake up as the coats-child again. I went back to bed and woke up but I was still that war. I called my sister and she asked if I wanted to come with her to church. I said okay. The church was small and quiet and I felt like everyone was looking at me. I don't think they were expecting a war in their church. The preacher took me aside and gave me starlight mints. I thanked him and kissed his cheek, and one of my fires caught on his coat. He threw his coat away and said it was no problem. The coat burned into the shape of a child. I took the coat-child home and made it clothes out of more coats. You are my child, I told it. You are my child.