Look at this, mom. Look at this, mom.
Somehow I make things real by looking at them. Even when my ghost feet don’t touch the floor.
Being a ghost could be a full-time job. We tried that, didn’t we. Is that why you wanted to be a writer? Yes and no. Half in and half out of everything.
I was telling Nicole that (what I understand of) Jewish guilt is a communal and other-directed matter, all the mitzvot you’ve slacked on; but Catholic guilt goes inward, toward the filthy things you want in your horrible heart. “Oh. Well, that explains you.”
