Fiction from NER 41.2 (2020)
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Coming out of the freeway tunnel in Santa Monica is a transformation. Dark, subway-tiled, no radio reception, then, instantly a burst of music, blue sky, white sand, and the glory of the ocean across Pacific Coast Highway. I feel like an ancient Greek coming out of the underworld. I am on my way to a Christian college in Malibu, a place I haven’t been to in over a year, since my banishment. Under the terms of my non-disclosure agreement I won’t mention the name. Like a lot of cults, they are extremely litigious.