Prose, On forgetting

The hard glare of the fluorescent light. The shiny marble floor. The buzzing of the electricity. In that somber quiet waiting room. Avoiding eye contact. Deep breaths of frustration.

Orlando — I wanted her gone. Every inch of every memory of her. The whole fabric of our time spent together. I wanted it unraveled. As if we never existed. The hard glare of the fluorescent light. The shiny mar...