Life is the lesson, isn’t it? Meaning, I hope I understand by the end.

Death never asks for permission, it simply shows up unannounced and takes what it wants.

From this fence pigeons rise above and fly in the sky spread over both sides, pigeons don’t know when the First World War broke out when atom bombs were dropped when Pakistan was carved out of India

It is futile to try to protect our children from fear. It is hubris that deludes us into thinking that this is a possibility in the first place.

A final breath, wove like a needle, shimmering, around his ragged neck. Sparkling red, shiny white key, hitting the middle of his chest—he was gone.

I suppose that this absence of a father figure has its unique benefits because there is no one around to polish a shotgun when an older boy whom I barely know pulls up into our dimly lit driveway with a spray bottle of shaken-not-stirred mixed liquors, a lighter he pilfered from his father, and a lean body charged with testosterone at the ready

I blame a universe of mortals. Where precious and permanent cannot be paired. And growing older means preparing to let go.

The Face is a disguise used to avoid a character that I fail to embody: the archetype of someone who succeeds. I don’t mean that success should be measured by one’s social aptitude, as if fake smiles and happy-to-see-you voices will make you rich one day, but more that we are taught to approach success as being a person who fits a particular mold.