Ten.Two Thousand, One Hundred & One
In the dream, they are at my front door crying, sobbing, telling me that their father has died and they do not know what to do.
Thursday.
I deliver the book to her door and pick up the one she left for me. Isn’t this a treat?
I tell her that so far, everything is going so well. They all sit next to one another without any complaint. Everything is so good. I don’t want to jinx it.
Whoa, wait. What?
Exactly the same as every other time.
What. A. Mess.
He says he will not forget us.
We eat cupcakes and drink champagne and describe our favorite episodes of “The Twilight Zone.” This was a good idea.
At least we have each other.