Dad’s
Read this slowly. Let the words arrive before you decide what they mean.
Saturday. Genova. Again. Dad has stopped asking whether I know the train times and now assumes I do. I like this tiny promotion into competence. We spent the afternoon by the water. He asked whether I’m happy. I said yes, then immediately wondered whether answering too quickly made it sound false. It wasn’t false. I am happy. Not every minute. That’s not a real standard. But generally, yes. School went well. I have my people. I have music. I have this ridiculous site. I can get on a train and be here. That’s quite a lot.
Remember me, Eclipse.
Reflections & Dialogue
0 Thoughts
Why?
Because every thought leaves a trace. If something moved you, disturbed you, softened you, or made you think, leave it here, quietly.