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All Things Must Pass
During my senior year of college, a therapist will tell me I think too much and ask me to explain what it is like in my head, but right now, we are stuck in a traffic jam on a highway that winds around and over downtown.
Sinkholes
We didn’t talk about how I lived in a trailer. You knew it, but we never said so.
That old aluminum Diet Coke can—cinder blocks instead of wheels, waist-high dogs knocking you flat every time you came over—loomed in plain sight up on the hill, above the pond that my daddy drove the mower into when we were little.
Grandpa Louis’s Escape
I was about eight; I think, when I walked passed my fathers office and saw him crying. For a child to see a parent cry is unnerving. True they are human beings, but children want to feel that their parents are stronger than they are and will always protect them.
Merivale
Have you ever been to Merivale?
She writes. While
Angelica, (six), fist full of flowers, arranges them in a pattern similar to that of the painted tile of the hearth.
Violet stalks with purple faces for the V and daisies for the W while she sits, cross-legged, in the milk-dish of sunlight coming in through the half-open door.
Champions
My name is Edward Macky. I do not want to die, and that is okay. I am entitled to my feelings.