NASHVILLE (TN)
Waiting for Salina blog
October 7, 2018
By Marci Preheim
It was a crisp fall morning in downtown Raleigh. I chose the only open table outside a bustling café, to savor my cappuccino. I concentrated on sipping without ruining the palm leaf etched in foam at the top of my cup. I was waiting for Salina.
I have been remotely acquainted with Salina for a few years, but I knew her from Twitter as Cathy. You know how Twitter is. You scroll through fragments of people’s lives and piece together a narrative. Cathy was hurt. Cathy was angry. Why? I couldn’t quite tell, but her cries on Twitter had a familiar ring.
I looked over my shoulder and saw her approaching. Her gait was slow and labored. She wore a button down cream-colored blouse, and stretchy blue slacks. She smiled sadly when she saw me, and made her way to the table. Cathy is middle-aged with short brownish-reddish hair and glasses. Her deep-set brown eyes looked weary and she wore no make-up. After a little small talk, we picked up the conversation we had been trying to have all weekend at The Courage Conference, hosted by Ashley Easter for sexual abuse victims and advocates. Like on Twitter, Cathy’s story was coming together in pieces. I had to ask a lot of questions, but I sat in stunned silence as it came into focus more than a hundred and forty characters at a time.
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