I remember when I was little , everything was simple. A fortress protected us from parents, bombs, fighter planes, and grandmothers. We were orphans in our story in a snow covered bunker. WWI. We were the children of British soldiers, not children of middle class parents, atleast for the moment our problems disappeared.
I remember funerals. Two specifically. My grandmother's and my friend Reason's. My grandmother's was hard. I was 10, a mess, scared shirtless ( like when I hated shirts around 3 ), not ready to say Goodbye. She was dead and beautiful. Cousins, Andre, Ayron, Avery said "Give her A Kiss"; on the cheek to say goodbye. I did. That was my grandmother and I loved her. So I believe that she was not dead, just in Vicksburg, Mississippi. She was okay atleast to me. She's fishing, smiling, not hurt. In my dreams, I am there with her. Content and Warm.
I remember my second funeral, it was for my best friend Reason. He was sick with the Cancer, my grandmother had the Cancer too. I imagine they're together. Laughing, smiling, doing things they both like to do. Fishing, soccer, teaching my Grandmother the art of Writing , short stories and poetry.
In my alternate reality they are safe... I only want them safe.
