There are times when events are so horrendous that reality itself seems to fall apart. I remember ironing my suit in the basement of my parent’s house. My father had died. I was preparing for the funeral. The suit I was going to iron hadn’t been worn since I graduated from high school. It barely fit. But there was no time to buy a new one. I’d forgotten that it was made out of some polyester material. As soon as the iron touched it, the suit melted.
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