Purgatory 2, Anna Mamie Ross, photograph
I lie in bed considering the fact that in the past week, the number of hours I have spent in the CVS staring at cereals that all taste the same is greater than the number of hugs I have received in the same time. I take a bath for the first time in eight years, adopt a cat, learn more than I thought possible about eels and tapir, help clean out my dead grandparents’ house and learn more about both in their death than I did their life. I take a walk. The moon is bright and I am cold and both experiences are commodities.
41
