Pseudomichael 🍺I regularly have feelings of surreality.
This is a parallel universe. An alternate timeline.
The wrong one.
Then there's the beckoning void of nostalgia and the past that lulls with the odor of familiarity; but it does not really have my father in it. Just traces. Hints. Shapes and outlines.
Tempting to attempt to inhale the nostalgia for a meal only to find it is all scent and no food.
He is gone.
This hole is for the rest of my life. Into the cold.