A FREEBORN MAN

Once upon a time, I had an argument with my mother.

Something to do with wasting potential and the lack of a rudder.

I remained calm throughout, as she pushed me for answers: What was I going to do? Where was I going?

“Somewhere. You'll see.”

“What, when you're dead?”

I flinched. She had to have noticed that I flinched.

God, no. Death had nothing to do with it.

She shut her bedroom door, and I retreated to my room without answering her.

“When I'm alive, mom. When I'm alive”