2018: the Art of Looking Away

New-gf glow and sun-soaked selfies hid Dad’s first subtle slide. I ignored my gut, but Ch. 19 won’t let me look away from the skid marks I pretended not to see.

Baptism by Floundering

From the edge of a boardwalk, o’er the Canal, where a new Barbie rod caught its first & last fish before being abandoned forevermore. (Cue the melodrama.)