parked

[pseudonymjones]

It's a rainy midday and Matthew sits in his car in an empty parking lot, reading old journal entries on his phone.

"I was such a petulant, entitled shit," he says.

"Mmm," says Counterpoint, "You've gotten a little better."

The past is a numb limb, attached but alien and remote. Matthew prods it and feels nothing. He considers amputation.