Jany Went Over

“I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can’t see from the center.”

— Kurt Vonnegut, Player Piano

It had an odd glow, that nightlight. It was bright sometimes.

I wonder why.

Near the end you become a shell of what you once were — can’t remember any happy times. Eyesight blurs, tone flabs, your hearing garbles.

Getting old sucks.

My grandma was old, though. I am not sure if she led a successful life. Her husband was a drunk. He couldn’t keep a job. She had three kids. Two sons. Successful in business. Both died early. A daughter. Social worker. She’ll reach 90.

My dad was successful in business.

He thought people were out to get him. He put motion sensors around the house. No one showed up.

Being an adult sucks.

Jen and Amy were cheerleaders. They loved the spirit. Jumping around, kicking high, hugging the players. They were so happy. I had a picture to prove it. I wasn’t in the picture.

Being a teenager sucks.

A cop ate lunch at our corner. I would bring him lemonade. He never arrested me. His name was Kevin.

Kevin liked my mom. He would stop in. Not sure why.

My older sister went through men quickly.

My friends were men.

Being me sucks.

I wore glasses. I was fat. I couldn’t hear anyone.

I must be old.

Sharp.

Cold.

Hesitant.

Failure.

Dying sucks.

If you are interested is reading some of my reflections on this post click here Story Notes