texts texts texts

[onefellswoop]

this one is for texts!

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2/3

[citrinesupernova]

My kids.

[ … ]

Not many’ve called them that. I thought of them as such, so too did Roza. Eh, Rozalia, my ex. Took to em like they were our own, and so they were [ … ] eh, for a time.

Nicky and Liza, Elizabeth and Nicholas. Those're them.

[ … ]

Can’t say I’ve done well by them since they were taken. Can’t say I know how to do it different, when the woman’s dead-set on us keeping away and there’s no appealing against the mother by birth, never mind there’s little chance she cares a fuck about them.

Thing is she’s got money. Her family does. My brother-that-was, his family as well.

Thing also is, there’s any number of ways to [ … ] [ … ] outplay a trans man, legally speaking and speaking in terms of prevailing opinion on the most outspoken social levels.

[ … ]

Haven’t seen them, either of them in years now. Wish it were otherwise. Wish I could work out making it otherwise, or were fucking [ … ] more clever, something, don’t rightly know. Best I can do’s write, send money, and even that’s dicey on whether it reaches the kids.

Well. A keep on with seeking. Might be there's some way of reaching them that's eluded me yet.

[ ... ]

That's the hope, leastwise.

[ A photo follows: Nova of about a decade past sprawled on the floor, looking tired but beaming bright. One hand is propped under his chin, and his free arm winds loose around a very young girl holding a plush parakeet tight, her wide eyes fixed on the camera with a laugh. With his free hand, Nova seems to be playing a game of Snakes N Ladders with a toddler-aged boy, who has caught in the act of pointing adamantly at one of the many ladders, clearly explaining to Nova something of dire importance. ]