Insert Chassis Albuquerque: August 2017

The Writer Who Wanted To Go Back In Time But Changed His Mind.

The world spinning, feeling sick and shit but remembering everything, even if it's the last thing you wanted to do. They're gone and you're still stuck in this hangover fireball going through every moment ever spent with someone - analyzing, reanalyzing and reinventing all the best and worst moments again and again until the end. It was only natural he should write about what he knew best. Why, he could write them back to life, the story growing in his head he could make his father alive, his mother even more beautiful and his brother never exist to spare him any pain.
And if he could bend light he'd bend it until he was beautiful, surrounded by family, rather than this scar-reminder.
Words, goddammit, all he had were words.
And all this death.

Train Observations

I was on the train.
Further along a couple, engaged in morning ritual, arguing.
"Why aren’t you talking to me...?" the woman demanded.
The man tried explaining but she wouldn’t believe him and was insulted. Practically apoplectic she kept shouting angrily, "I can't hear a thing! Why aren't you saying anything! You’re talking but I can’t hear a thing you’re saying...!"
"I meant nothing by it, I was just listening to the engine of your thoughts missing a beat!" the man replied.