Of course, setting fire to birds is wrong. Even if everybody else is doing it. Anyway, you have to catch them first. A couple of times I nearly died in my sleep, but like that lady doctor said, each day my cells make me a new body. Everything will be OK as long as it happens before midnight. Since my brother’s murder, I don’t worry if my skin’s on inside out. We’re all just people. Last week, I counted seven Thursdays. Sunday happened all day. Sometimes it makes you wonder what sports would be like on other planets? Would they have home games and away games? Probably both. Soon, I’m going to get a place of my own. My Mom’s basement is small, but at least it prevents echoes. My bedroom has a door to the outside. You can go for a walk by the lake anytime you want—day or night. The palms lean toward the lake like they’re listening to the water crying. Sometimes a person can get lost at night, even if they’re dead. I don’t pay any attention to the black helicopters. What do they want, anyway?
decomP, August, 2016