Whispers

cleaning my kitchen, sorting paperwork, a USBank deposit receipt

your dad is dead. file this with the estate paperwork.

a bottle of zoloft

your dad is dead. keep taking these. thank gawd you increased your dosage before he died.

a yellow shirt with palm trees peeking out from the pile of clean laundry

your dad is dead. this shirt smelled like him. now it doesn’t. your dad wore this shirt the last time you saw him out of the hospital

alex grabs my old mickey mouse dominoes

your dad is dead. he’ll never play with alex with these like he played with you.

prof’s birthday

your dad is dead, you should call and tell prof “happy birthday ya little shit” in your best dad impression. or y’know, not call at all

any thought of my grandma

you should write her. you should write her. you should write. she lost her baby boy. you should write her. you should write her. you should write her.

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sigh.