My Profession
I worked at a prestigious school. People kind of didn’t believe it. I worked as a layperson. People ignored me. Whether the money I got was mine I told myself it was, and so the story goes. The bricklayer came back three times in one week to tell us it couldn’t be done. The dog-sitter retired. All my friends moved away, got better jobs, wrote to their hearts’ content. I kept placing one stone upon another, building a cairn for my losses. I kept fantasy alive because if you don’t, you know what will happen.
Marigold
I couldn’t will it into being. My lust for life wouldn’t give me any rest. I wanted and I wanted and I wanted some more. I told myself Marigold would be a good dog name and conjured another want. I constantly led myself astray. The more I began to recognize this, the more I released the old bones to make room for new, bionic ones. Soon I’d become the light.
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