this afternoon I was driving near our old house and decided to pretend it was 2016 and that I was pregnant and had just opened the invite to my brother’s wedding.
(this morning I saw it on facebook “7 years ago today!” a picture I snapped at the post office, me, chipped nails, holding a picture of the wedding invitation, all tears and love.)
(such innocence.)
so for about a minute, I imagined that instead of heading to pick my 6 year old up from school, I was driving to that rental I hated so much, with it’s stale cigarette smell and missing floor trim, but Zach was alive.
(I’ve spent too much of my life worried about ripped linoleum and popcorn ceilings.)
Love your use of parenthesis.