Today, or maybe yesterday (time has been broken for years) is the anniversary of my brother's death. Today it has been nine years since I lost him. Today I try to figure out how that is even possible but no calculations make sense. Today I am happy that I am marked forever by love even though it is inconvenient. Today I eat strawberries. Today I host a good friend. Today I make jokes about not wanting to leave the house. Today I do work for a few hours until my eyes get tired from the screen. Today I don't tell anyone about today until right now. Today I smell a phantom dead mouse and gag a little. Today I take a nap until I have a nightmare. Today I finally vacuum the rug. Today I miss you, and you, and you. Today I am angry about all that's been taken from me. Today that thought does not eat me alive, only nibbles on the edges. Today I cried while using Photoshop specifically the rotate canvas button that I could not get to rotate us right-side-up. Today I wear safety orange shorts because it is hot and I am lazy and you would have loved them too.