every tuesday at 3:25 pm.
every tuesday at 3:25 pm he'd ask sit in my beat up old magna and listen to the static of the broken radio.
it's always baffled me why he did that, why he sought such dull chaos to solve the conundrums sloshing around in his head; they made sense to no one but him and that made them only more special.
'josh?' he'd call, his words slurred with concentration, his pupils dilated with confusion. he'd gotten lost for a moment, stuck, and all he wanted was a hand on his shoulder to bring him back to reality, the reality in which he knew me.
to him, reality didn't make sense anymore.
dementia had made itself a cozy abode inside him. and although he was optimistic, as the days passed and he began forgetting even his own name that hope dwindled and became distorted by the illness.
my name, however, stuck. i'm not sure why, i'm not sure he knows why-it just did.
and so, every tuesday at 3:25 pm when i pulled up at the nursing home in my falling apart magna, he'd repeatedly say my name until tears spewed from his miserable eyes, until it didn't sound like a real word anymore, until he remembered something he was sure was real and safe.
'josh, josh, josh.'
i wish i didn't take it for granted.
ayyyyyyyy so this is a teaser i guess for a collection of short stories i'm attempting to write i have one that's finished and one that's in the making which is this one but i like the start to this one better so ((;
idk if i'll have it up anytime soon or at all i'll probably forget about it but here have this and tell me ur thoughts!!! btw this is unedited, it's just simple vocab and all that jazz so ye
ok bye now
