this morning #657.

this morning, humiliation had taken on a surprising new form & he was searching for someplace to hide away from it all for a sec, a space where he could feel like a fool in peace. he decided to take refuge in the last place anyone would look for him: the attic. the forgotten room. the final resting place for insignificant tokens of years of memories. from a once-comfy chair in the corner, he scanned the boxes & bins that surrounded him for something to dive into & divert his thoughts away from the shame. eventually, he’d have to return to the real world. for the next few hours though, he would focus on someone else’s pain by rifling through secrets from his father’s time in iraq.