January 15, 2020

At one point I was saying to the black air, “Tumors do go away. Cats do recover and go on. You could do this. Nobody would notice. The Balance need not be thrown off. I would be silent as fog. Please. Please.” But, no. For a moment I pitied God, hearing this from a million hearts every moment of the day, and, for whatever reason, being unable to say, “All right, this time.” I see her wherever I look, and I whisper stay, little ghost, as long as you can. I come in from school, and for the first time in fifteen years, she is not there to greet me. This will begin to look foolish. I will not mention it in public again.