Advice by Christina A. Taylor

            “The slivers we show, the mountains we hide.”  
~Chanel Miller 

Always say good. Practice saying it. Good.

Rush of morning, before the buses unload, heading for the bathroom, a colleague greets me with a smile and “How are you?” like they do every day.

Never say OK.

 “OK” leaves the door open a crack. All it takes is a sliver for someone to ask that question
I fear.

“Why just OK?”

Then I might break, and spill—

Tell them how I didn’t sleep well, how I woke up at 3 am from a dream where I was at my daughter’s funeral. Open casket. Her father and I standing closer than we’ve been for years- people I don’t recognize approaching the two of us.

Now I can’t stop.

How sometimes it’s the dream where I discover her dead in her apartment, in her bed, pills strewn all over the blue comforter I gave her. At this point I’m babbling that she’s been in four different rehabs this year, detox, you name it and last week, after I’d texted her three times with no reply, even though the counselor told me not to call her, I called.

I had to hear her voice. I had to know.

Artist’s Statement

"There were 2,357 confirmed and estimated opioid-related overdose deaths in 2022, surpassing the previous peak in 2021 by an estimated 57 deaths." ~Massachusetts Dept. of Public Health

Christina A. Taylor is a pseudonym.

 
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CANOEING ON SWAN RIVER and THIS ART WORLD by John Grey

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the thing about circular journeys. by Talia Hope Levy