Friends of Gabriel Chantayan

so im on the porch with a bag of corn and my sister comes out and starts reading this page she wrote about grief being "a door that keeps reopening" and i'm just standing there with corn silk in my hair like... is this supposed to make me feel something or is this just her warmup for the next novel she'll abandon after chapter two

sis from across the room says: ((it made YOU feel something, you just won't admit it because you have the emotional range of a hardware store -- and the door keeps reopening because YOU keep walking through it, maybe think about that while you're shucking))

anyway the corn was good, dad burned half of it, 6/10 dinner experience, would get read poetry at again

[sis adds: the door keeps reopening because you never close it all the way. think about it. ]