You probably wouldn’t think this was important, how this aligns chronologically. So what, if I’m writing this so many hours, days, months following a particular loss? Timing isn’t important, is it? Not as much as win or loss, anyway, though how much that’s important is unknown.
In a long-past nocturnal hallucination, I found a library book. A tiny thing, as if too small for its row. It was about you and your squad, with (I think) psychic ability having a thing or two to do with it. A typical hallucinatory twist. Typing out that story was my only opportunity to look at it. So I did.
It’s not around now. I got rid of it, I think, in humiliation (“My writing was that bad?”). It’s a common thought. (So why do I put my writing up on a public blog?)
Did anybody jinx you that night? I doubt it–that is to say, I doubt a jinx was at fault for your loss. You’d doubt it, wouldn’t you?
Last night, I was trying hard to find a Chicago broadcast with my radio. I thought of 2008, with its Chicago-Pittsburgh marathons. I didn’t want it to drag on, though. That matchup, Pittsburgh won.
I got to know its finish, but I couldn’t go unconscious following that. Not as quickly as I would want to. I want to say that I last saw my clock at 11:40: almost today, May 26. But was it 10:40? Who knows. If I had a hallucination, I forgot it.
Why am I writing a lipogram, of all things? For an “amount of difficulty bonus”? So I can think Oh, but could said prodigy do this? and not I wish I was that good?
Or, in doing a truly hard, uncommon task, do I push toward that which I cannot say?