17 (Tennis balls)

John hasn’t spoken through the vents in weeks, but I know he’s there because I can hear him. He was agitated in the beginning. Objects were picked up and put down. Footsteps covered the entire length of his room. Last week, something crashed again and I didn’t see him until several days later. He now … Continue reading 17 (Tennis balls)

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16 (Happiness Is What You Can Live Without)

I hate August. Not only because I can’t stop the oppression no matter how loud the air conditioning runs, but because it smells like August. It smells like all of the birthdays my youngest child celebrated. Like carefully crafted fruit tarts with pink candles stuck in the center. Like all the dime store cinnamon lotions … Continue reading 16 (Happiness Is What You Can Live Without)