this morning #882.

this morning, with the blinds closed tight, i dropped down a mop & dragged it across the lobby floor. fast flashes to those two years two decades back when i was inside doing my time. pretty sure that’s the last time i held a mop. back then, i mostly cleaned up cafeteria food. now there was so much blood to be scrubbed. if you’d asked, twenty years back, when my wife & i had our son, “how will you make his life better?,” my answer would NOT have been “by helping him cover up a crime & avoid jail time.” here i was though, schlepping a bucket back & forth from the employee breakroom while my son drove the body of a man he’d killed to an undisclosed location.