Suspension of Disbelief
Suspension of Disbelief I brush off the grief that’s been lumbering my spirit long enough to run outside for lunch. Narrative break and narrative break— this long‑overdue gap in space wallops my brain. I arrive at my place in line. My mind teeming with what I did and didn’t do, spanning years and miles wide. I accept the minute distraction, compose my order before the proposition comes. Six‑inch BMT, and it’s back to roiling remembrance, chasing ghosts through my head. The world feels shrinking. Realities cinched I didn’t choose. A decade‑long love I’m trying to put in the rearview. Filaments behind my eyes flicker and strain, stoking fear inside. I’m going to bed and waking up somewhere that’s not my own. I’m living a life carved by loss, lighting a fire in the dark with what I’ve got. The woman ahead speaks to me. I crawl out of my head to tune in. She marks these strange times, the problems adding up, my thinness and the swirling winds that could pick me up. I’m adrift ins...