I’ve had many happy moments in my life. Most of those I only realize the happiness in retrospect. In a rare few, I was aware of the love and happiness while it was happening (and I say love, because I’m not sure if my happiness ever existed without love, regardless of how perverse or alien from conventional love it might have appeared). What is rarer still, are moments of recognizable happiness that have occurred, and continue to occur.   Working from my bed at night, while my daughter sleeps next to me is that kind of happiness. And the only example that I can think of. We have a routine. …

The loss of memory is one of the most profound feelings of loss I have ever experienced. The irony is not that I didn’t expect things to fade. I knew they would leave me. I just never thought it would matter. I always thought I could replace the old with the new. However, there comes a time when you can’t do something new. And then you cling. But the nature of memories is that they’re imperfect. The details continuing to be viewed through dirtier and dirtier water. Sometimes I try to back into the details through deduction. It’s a gross and addictive exercise. That really only ends when I accept …

I’m eating store bought sushi and drink a premade smoothie when the woman comes up and starts gesturing. I look around. I haven’t said a word to anybody, because the few tables at the front of the grocery store are completely empty. “Sprinchst du Englisch?” I ask. “Nein.” She keeps gesturing, and I realize she doesn’t want me sitting there. I think because I was supposed to have bought something from the bakery by the entrance. “I thought this was a part of the grocery store.” I try to explain. She gets aggressive, her voice carrying across the store. “Ok, I’ll go buy something,” I say. I try to finish …