The memory of smoke

The memory of smoke

Sunday, September 25, 2011

When the long estranged father is found to be dead.

Il bâtard c'est mort. Two weeks ago, 9/11. Found the death notice googling around this morning. I don't mind that none of my remaining genetic family have contacted me, keeps it very clear. Mutual lack of interest.

But I do feel as if I've had a bash on the head. No pain, no anger, not happy or sad, just stunned and stupefied.

Sent an email to my cousin. Left a "condolences on your loss" with my email address on the guestbook, just to make sure everyone understands that I know, and know that if they don't contact me it's because it is clearly intentional. No excuses. Form has been observed.

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