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Tag Archives: memory
What’s a good day? Is it when he wakes up calmly and takes the pills she leaves out for him? Is it when he waits for her, if he gets up before her? Is it when he doesn’t break a … Continue reading
Her hands moved over the piano; she played quietly, constellation eyes half closed, heart wide open. She sang, but only in her head, only in the place where she wouldn’t hear anyone else comment on her tone, on her pitch, … Continue reading
I. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder at the forks in the road. Paths not taken. Discoveries not made. How would they have turned out? No different than anyone else looking back on their lives, but I feel infinitely ill-prepared … Continue reading
If I cut away this flesh and I strip away this voice and I reduce myself to the nothing but 1s and 0s that will ultimately be left behind, I am not entirely sure I see enough of anything to … Continue reading