Medicine Memory
Published in Predicate Literary Journal
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IT WAS LIKE SLUDGE. How could anyone drink coffee like that? I drank it anyway, needed to wake up. I was on medication for my condition, which always made me drowsy. It affected my memory, too. I could never remember when or even if I took my medicine for the day, and if I took more than one, it could be very dangerous. But if I didn’t take it, it would be worse. I don’t even remember why I must take it. My mother was the only person who knew, and she passed away suddenly of a heart attack three years ago.
“Marilyn?” I called. My secretary bustled in. She was wearing a light purple dress-suit that was stunning. She was gorgeous. I stared at her in awe.
“What is it, Roll?” she asked. I loved it when she called me
