by Linda Laino Torsten Dederichs Yesterday I felt the kind of persistent longing that is like waiting for a late bus or one that never arrives and you are left to walk alone in the heat or the dark or the rain or whatever feels like your current poison But today I sit in the winter sun and a little girl wearing pink hollywood sunglasses and a flower crown gives me her best queen’s wave as she passes and I think: There’s a parade coming There’s a parade! Linda Laino is an art