Monday, March 21, 2022

Coricidin

I'm thinking of the kid who drank cold medicine all the time in order to feel like someone else. I often found him caught between dimensions, his soul jammed in a revolving door. Most of the time he'd recognize me. We'd get him in and stabilized. He'd always sleep for the first three days and gradually return to Earth. Within a week he'd become himself and I couldn't help but marvel at who was standing there in front of me. A personality - warmth, humor, intelligence, generosity, sensitivity. It hurts to be like that so he never stayed long. He'd have the cab driver take him directly to CVS at discharge. I wonder what became of him.

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