“Timer”
Life is a timer. One day you’re 13, sitting in Mrs. Darby’s English class, in the portable classroom — the kind where you hear your hollow steps as you trudge up the ramp to get to the raised front door. The bell rings. After class, Shara, the Egyptian girl that grew breasts faster than all the other girls, is bending over to put her books back in her backpack. You’re still sitting at your desk, waiting for your new pubescent friend to go away.
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13, 16, 18, 21, then it speeds up. Or slows down, depends on who’s counting. 25, 30. 31. And everything stops. Tick, tick. Bang, bang. The imaginary implosions of your life as you kneel in the debris of a broken relationship, a ruined career, an avalanche of a future.
