Shimin’s malfunctioning disability alarm echoes into my window, the volume’s low enough to etch itself into my imagination but shrill enough to pierce into my conscious.
Bro left for Sweden and isn’t going to be back until six months later.
Dad’s hand was in bad shape. Mom and I were just talking about how he should’ve had quit before it got to him. I’m worried for dad, of course, but I don’t know if mom’s able to cope bro being away and dad’s injury.
I’m tired all the time from being fat and getting bombarded by everything and everyone.
I ran last night, against the track’s friction and the injustice. Third day of school and I’m done with all this.
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