Windex

The smell of memories. I was so small, so high pitched, so innocent. JKujst excited to spend the day with my dad while at work. Those were my favoirte times during winter snow storems and school cancellations. I was allowed to help my dad clean the store. He let me wash the display cases with windex and a neatly folded paper towel. I would go over the seams over and over where the dried glue was showing. The smell stays with me now. Like

Bagelworks, and its smell of coffee. Hot cocoa and chocolate chip brownies for those winter breakfasts. I lived with those smells and the 123 inch tv and a stack of VHSs. My little lego sets too.

Our brains are our time machines brining us back to the past to an extreme not like the original. TImes bubble up and flash memory is always apparent. I remember Joe Tore telling me baout Christina and I under the couch in 4th grade. A flash of PCC, lost connecting memory there. Somehow flash to the cute and flirty asian girl at the museum of science. Oh right, Christina and I went there once. Our only date. Dates outside Dating.

Its all dead now, just more memories. more dissolving time travel. Jy dog. I had a dog. Her name was Saffron, Saffy for short. She died 3 days before my 13th birthday. ti cam over to console me. I remeber I was worried once that my mom got into a car accident on my 10th brithday. the day papa and I rearranged the furninture in my room for the first time. And now. in the present its so empty. Devoid of spectacular spectacular detail. only memories here now. and it fels like a very different place. Ive never had sex in this room but I have. I once had a Knex armada in the corner where my bed used to be/my dexk sued to be/where my closet used to be/where my camera trunk is. The carpet was pale in comparison to the child colors. my carpet shines comfortable now, and I wish I could take it with me now. Every inceh, even the tack holes: my memories. Flash bulbing and windexing my life.

Windexing my life.