The other week I dreamnt –
I’m in a big cavernous room with rows of picnic tables sitting
end-to-end, and it’s sort of dim, and there’s a group of (white) women of mixed ages sitting over in
the next row like a table down from me closer in towards the closer wall, though we're still a good distance away from the wall.
Somehow we start talking, and they clue me in that they’re here as a refuge
from spaces where transgender women go, and this is where all the serious lesbians go.
At that, I’m surprised, because some of them are very young for being
radical feminists, like in their mid-to-late 20s.
One older woman introduces herself to me, too, and her name is “Marge,” and
I realize that she’s a commenter too from this radical feminist blog that we
used to frequent a while ago back before it got shut down, and that that was actually her commenting handle on the site, "Marge."
. . .
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