Contemporaneous: Chapter 45
45. Sunday morning, I’m in bed, drifting in and out of a fitful sleep, an attempt to escape reality, but knowing I’m now at a time in the morning I have to face the day. That truth ushers in an unnavigable dread – this knowing that there’s maybe sixteen waking hours where I have to live in this new reality, but it’s a reality that I don’t want any part of. The worst thing is I don’t see an end to this. Even my relationship with Lana, as inexorable as it might’ve seemed when I was in it, always felt finite. This doesn’t. All that remains is the infinity of…
Contemporaneous: Chapters 33 – 34
33. I want to think I’m being magnanimous when it comes to Melody, but there she is, chatting gaily with Shia, them casting occasional glances in my direction, followed by the occasional giggle. This is like high school etiquette, although I never truly engaged in it, always feeling like I was on the outer of some joke. Most people wouldn’t have let it bother them. Psychos would’ve stewed and plotted carnage. I was somewhere in the middle, stewing but impotent. Can you believe he thinks he can teach me how to write good? I imagine Melody saying. Have you read his books? Shia would shoot back. Why would I bother?…