7 years have passed since my bicycle crash, 7 years and 13 hours since my fall from grace. sometimes i feel time collapsing all around me. the steady propulsion of time slowly erasing me. but everyone knows summer is the season for erasure since this is the season when time obliterates everything. present company excluded.
and then people look at me like i’m crazy when i tell them i am a winter person. if i mention it, they sometimes say, “yes, we already know that about you.” But i can’t recall ever saying that to anyone. not even you. except maybe once.