LANA HATES BEARDS. She says they're scruffy and the one time I tried to grow one, her face broke out in a rash every time I kissed her. I guess it doesn't matter anymore. My suit lays as lifeless as me over the chair, where I left it two weeks ago. I need to get up. I know I do. My grievance days were up a week ago, but I can't care. I can't move.
The knock comes at the same time as always.
“Good afternoon, honey." Grandma closes the door behind her and opens the curtains, the ones Lana picked up from a thrift store.
“Come on, Theo." She pushes my legs off the couch and opens up a lunch bag; vegetable soup today. She says I need more vegetables, says I'm depressed.
“Thanks grandma." I'm not depressed. I just don't know how to live anymore.
“How are you feeling today?" She pushes my ha
