unicidades

Photo by Dan Garver Tomorrow is a brand new day he said and he called her deary. She closed her eyes and then realized she was still alive. Despite all the pain she had endured all of her life. The pain had not killed her even if sometimes it had felt like it would. She liked the house with all its lights out and the quietness of all the noises in a comfortable distance. Somewhere, she was sure, people were talking animatedly. Lights on, loud voices, music in the background. Music, the greatest viable way to redeem the soul. Joy, she thought. To spare the body from its maladies. It’s music. Music and the art of being fictitious with stories everyone knows. With stories everyone live, experiment, forget. Loves that people leave behind.  I sip from a hot cup of tea. The rain has stopped. My dad can’t speak anymore. He lost weight.  We don’t talk. Somehow, I am managing to encapsulate myself inside of a life that is deserted. But it’s not even me. It must be