You had a name for me. I had a name for you. Always turned my head. Your memory was good, but you still remembered some moments as lasting longer than others. I wonder if I do it too.
Our lives were hands on a doorknob turning. Closing doors and final moments.
Where do they go, the people I don't dream of anymore?
8 percent battery life.
Tomorrow waits in queue, ticket in hand, carpet bag in the other. Fleeing the future.
A woman told me she was the last matriarch of the DeLeons. She said she was every blood type. She said the military took her spinal fluid and it is hidden in a vault. She said her body cured her cancer on its own after she refused treatment. She said she wasn't supposed to get excited because of her heart. She said "Ha ha" as two words and a question mark. She said she was going to turn Minnesota from Democrat to Republican by calling her family members there. She said I was wrong.
She told me that she was a descendant of Ghengis Kahn. I believe that is the second most probable thing she said to me.
The phone disconnected. I called her back. She answered by telling me again that she has blood types O-, U, and N. She asked me to look at the letters and tell her what they spelled. I didn't. The phone disconnected again. I did not call her back.