Hyperbola

It was late at night and I had just gotten home after getting drunk with a girl I wasn't in love with. My small house seemed distressingly large. I went into my boy's room and laid on his bed. My head rested on his pillow, dark blue, white in places where he'd drooled in his sleep. I hadn't seen him in 2 days. I hadn't seen my mother in 30 years, my father in 20. I considered this for awhile. It's a long story, but what's important is that one day I was with them and another day I wasn't. And after some time I stopped noticing. I wondered if it was possible to do that in 2 days. Between my two parents they had eight children, and they probably didn't know where any of them were right now. I looked up at the ceiling in the dark, holding two of my boy's stuffed animals, and could remember when they both still loved me. This is what is in my blood, my son's blood.

Or maybe it's just the alcohol talking.