Contemporaneous: Chapter 52
52. We end up at a bar in the city, and then another, drinking obliviously, paying too much for beer and, for the most part, reminiscing about school, friends, and family; or talking about important theological questions, like which Star Trek series are better (but agreeing that all the new stuff is shit); that Stranger Things is grossly overrated as style over substance; how modern Hollywood predominantly makes special effects extravaganzas rather than stories; and then we talk about death, because that’s where it’s lumped nowadays as a discussion – from pop culture to the ultimate end. “If I had the guts to do it,” Stan says, “I’d go.” We’re…
Contemporaneous: Chapters 23 – 24
23. Like when the car hit me, there’s no pain. But there is a sudden sense of shearing, of weight falling from me until all the aches of being almost fifty, the pain in my foot and leg, the tiredness in my body, and the inebriation in my head, shred, like they’re nothing more than tissue paper holding me, and I’m immersed in a thick grey mist. And I see everything because, as the cliché goes, it’s almost like life flashing before my eyes, but instead it’s a rapid recount: my birth; running happily around as a kid; school and my first teacher, am amputee without a right hand, which…
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