The footprints left by astronauts on the moon are permanent. They will never ever go away like the grief of a father identifying his son by his shoes because the rest of his son’s body was out-lobbied by the NRA, by suits whispering into the ears of Washington— this is what we mean by freedom and justice, the names of our cities becoming synonymous with babies being buried like seeds in the greed gardens of the wealthy. But you should know your teacher was a hero, we say. Her body was found bunkering a group of your friends.
