Taylor is a name that has run in my family for quite some time.
My Mom and busy aunts speculate often about the origin of this "heirloom" when I enter the room. It perturbs me, because I KNOW they're going out of their way to purposefully make me feel uncomfortable.
My Mom's go-to "update" on my life is: "Oh, you know he smokes wretched cigarettes now!"
She isn't one for plastering on the make-up, although it just takes a call from my aunts who have invited themselves for tea to cause her to spin herself towards the kitchen mirror.
Sometimes my aunts enjoy making a spectacle out of my mother. They dish out endless advice about the different hues of lipstick and where they fit best. My constant eavesdropping has allowed me to pick up on these tips, although to be honest, they've repeated this same stagnant advice enough times for me to be an expert myself.
My Mom isn't too vastly different from me in a few ways. She enjoys her solitude with a book, although that's not REAL solitude if you are like me and see a book as a person.
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Into the Wind
General FictionTaylor struggles with decision making. His depth of thinking causes him feel isolated. Having recently stopped his depression medication, he wonders what the underlying cause of his depressive state is and whether he can figure out a way to remedy i...
