Friday, August 24, 2018Subscriber update19 likes

On Wednesdays We Wore Pink

Regina I get hit by the same bus every day. At least I think I do. I don’t always know the difference between what I know and what I think. But I do know that it hurts, every time. And the day is always divided into before I get hit by the bus, and after I get hit by the bus, but it hurts on both sides. Sometimes I’m in the hospital, sometimes I’m at home, resting. Everyone calls it resting. I don’t know what they mean by that. I don’t know that resting is the best response to being hit by a bus, but I do it anyhow. Sometimes I’m back at school, and I’m in the middle of a conversation that I didn’t even know I was having, and I’ll think,