Thank you. I gave myself the prompt “my brain fell apart” and it became a thought experiment. This sort of thing is no longer part of some unimaginably distant future for me. I’m going to be 70 in May. People have weird strokes in their seventies. It happens. The ending just sort of tumbled out. I cried as I wrote it.

That’s not unusual because I’m a big mush. I cry over stuff.

You want to cry? Read the most recent chapter of Fear of Red Tomatoes by Joe Marjesua. The guy’s a genius. Read the entire thing.