It has been a while, some time, and it may be longer. This is me breaking the surface of the water for a gasp of air.
Sunsets over the Verrazano Bridge, sleeping beneath the stench of mothballs and death in my grandmother’s house while she separated into smaller and smaller pieces that headed along the shore of Upper New York Bay, through the Narrows, and out into the ocean … her children, my aunt and uncles, the way they carried her in a small rectangular blue velvet (aquavelvet) box, taking turns, her to there and there to over there, as they disappeared into a white Lexus SUV and sped away down Shore Road. Sorting through pictures, divvying them up amongst those present.
I am clenching. My phone is disconnected due to a landlord error. I think my liver is rupturing. My computer at home is bedridden with infection. I am at work at 6:30pm on a sunny Wednesday evening.
There is no need for memory. Time to go home and smoke cigarettes.