My mother called earlier today.
She asked among other things “How are you holding on ? Are you alright?”
“I’m ok” I replied. All the while thinking of scalpels and trees.
What else can you really say?
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That’s poetry right there
Scalpels and trees?
Happens to me all the time.
If you can’t trust tellin your moms the truth who can you trust?
Nobody.
rhetorical question