628am, back porch

You know that dream?

The one where you’re in college again and, like, months into school you remember there’s a class you’ve forgotten to go to the entire semester. You went on day one, but just completely forgot you were even in the class after that. That feeling; a sudden and pointed guilt because you can’t believe you could screw up so bad.

Sometimes I have that same feeling in the waking world. Not often, but occasionally, the thought will just hit me that I’ve not spoken to my mom in forever. A wave of shame and sadness descends; how could I be such an awful son? When was the last time I even called my mother? What kind of cruel uncaring beast of a son just forgets to call his mom?

The kind whose mom has been dead for years, I guess. That kind.

The brain is funny like that.

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