Authenticity
Well. That was uncomfortable at best. All of them gathering around my bed to see me off. Uncomfortable and prolonged, like a slow-acting poison. For one thing, their being here forces me to look at them. Not that I don’t want to look at them. Some are the issue of my loins, after all. But their being here and my being forced to look at them also brings into my periphery that damned countdown machine with … Read more