I’m dying very quickly, and the sweet chemicals in candy and diet sodas are comforting, so the first thing I think about is if there would be a convenience store nearby, so deep in the woods. Nobody believes that I’m dying from such a sad, and rare disorder – one that doesn’t have a name. Only the doctor knows what is really wrong with me, but he says there is no name for this fatal illness.

Sometimes, he’ll begin “you see…” then, change the trail of the conversation to something as impersonal as the local deer population crisis.

~ Meg Pokrass @ Monkeybicycle

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