that time

he never spoke to me again. without explanation, i knew how to say the word. pumiquat. it's not what you think. nor what you expect. it's a secret. i've only told you the part that you're allowed to know

xerxes, fried baloney, cleopatra click click, powdered eggs, slimy chicken in #10 cans, the toaster fire, the burnt cabinet, slicing

Could those human bones we dug up that time have been cursed? Could I have been cursed? Could we have been cursed? We put them back, but maybe that didn’t help. I did everything I could to avoid digging up the bones of my assault.

As we wept—my father and I—I wondered if it was for his friend, after all. I wondered if it was for him. I wonder if it was for me.

The original trauma was birth and everthying that follows is but preparation for the trauma of death. Of letting go of all that we have learned. It is only through remembering that we can die because remembering is to forget.

For most of my life, I felt disconnected and adrift. My childhood was marked by abuse and neglect. I never

I believe I am the figment of a little boy’s imagination. He’s trying to imagine himself in the future. In a different future than the one he expects. I am ten years old imaging I am sixty-three.

(This is part of a series. You can read related posts here.) I had a bad fall. As in the

that was how it started, this is how it started, that death, this death, two points, on an imaginary line, only one point, on a circle, a clock...

It is not known what his disposition was as an infant but it is assumed that he was born innocent,

Despite his six foot height and broad shoulders, his clothes hung on him loosely like a child growing into hand-me-downs.