Chapter 2
Sometimes he dreams of the ocean.
(It's Rockaway, has to be)
& the dream always, al-fucking-ways, starts and ends the same.
He drops something on the shore & the waves take it away, as he walks back to get it.
& right when he reaches for it, the waves recede greatly, and then it reaches all the way to the top of the shore, pulling him like gravitational orbit to a moon.
He silently struggles to stay on, gripping the shore. & it's heavy.
& every time, he wakes up with another memory. It's just like this.
Catches his breath, putting his head back as he tried to regain composure (Romania, not Moscow. Bucharest, not Russia-).
After his breath finally catches up to him, he reaches for the notebook he keeps next to the bed, writing what just came in his head.
This is how it now.
& he deserves every fucking minute.