11 Years

My door opened this morning around 7:15, and my father’s face seemed to say it all. I can’t deny that after seeing my grandmother three nights ago that I didn’t understand the inevitability of her situation. Driving over I had heard on the radio a report on the staggering size of the “death” business in the US. More than the hip hop industry, more than the music biz, more money than our mocha chai latte society could manage to spend on importing coffee every year.


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