#a boy whose left hand was deformed to resemble a lurking octopus

[mumblelard]

a dryer full of damp bedding on an overcast day

yesterday i had a handful of gummi peaches, a bowlful of tater tots, and canful of knockout punch while fallie drew a map of the temple compound with little pieces of found plastic and finn described exploring a storage flat in the foothills filled with cars too far gone to move

last night i dreamt about broken taps, a suitcase full of hidden compartments, a too small room with a too small door and a ragged hole in the corner

today i'm having coffee with someone i haven't spoken to in quite a while, rereading suttree for the first time in too long a while, and cooking hamburgers on potato rolls while listening to too much townes van zandt

and i'm performing the rituals

tomorrow is our monthly lunch with my parents, where i will pretend not to notice my dad is still angry that i contradicted him weeks and weeks ago. topics of conversation will be the salaries of professional athletes, the minutia of my estranged brother's life, and the exact route of their planned drive to the panhandle.

maybe i will ask him to stop texting me bible verses every morning at four a.m. the wall of scripture uninterrupted by context or conversation that he has decided to build between us

instead, maybe i will ask him to text me a funny joke every morning at four a.m. or just a thing that made him smile. maybe i will ask him to tell me he hopes i am well every morning at four a.m. that i have a good day. that i find nourishment in this life. maybe i will ask him to tell me, every morning at four a.m., that he loves me