(for Small Daughter and GeoV)

It has been suggested, that, if, you could convince yourself that you were already dead, the torment of dying wouldn’t bother you (as much). I already know what it’s like to be dead, having been dead before: there isn’t shit over there on the other side; no light, no tunnel, no rapture or dancing, lemonade or servings of German chocolate cake… just a nagging dread that some fuck-head is going to come grab you from it, and bring you back to hell. That is just how it is to be stung by the Soldier’s Heart.

When a father loses his young children, when he has them taken away, he’s doesn’t have to remind himself that they are gone, for nothing else exists but the loss of his children. The world becomes a missing 14-year-old girl, and an 11-year-old boy… except the boy is 12 now; 12 already and his Dad has already lost track?

He has missed two of their birthdays, two Christmases, two Thanksgivings, two Halloweens, two Easters… two children for over two years, and that can be just too much. It gets worse when all channels of communication are removed from the father and those two children, so Dad can’t text them a joke, or the answer to a homework question, or send a picture of a praying mantis clinging to the backdoor screen… the stupid stuff, the pointless stuff, the wastes of time.

A Snapchat from Small Daughter is a dot of joy in Dad’s life. A pointless not-so-funny YouTube video clip from his son becomes another joyous dot in the life. Time becomes that which merely connects the dots. It connects them yes, but also separates the two dots, making it a longer and longer wait between them. Time is not at all on Dad’s side.