Milkshakes and Earthquakes
Peeling back memories like calcified onion skins. They don’t budge easy.
Some might say there’s a supernatural power to Burgerville’s milkshakes. So delicious it can bring you back from a dissociative episode. The ones where you hover on the edge of the void as some alien force calls to you.
You claw at your face but it doesn’t help. Neither does the music or the movement on the road as the car seeks new streaks. I doubt even the hand you clutch holds much comfort. Or the soothing tones a young man is trying to make as he struggles to find some peace to give. But it’s not his to give. He’ll still try. But you make it back on your own.
And who knows— maybe it was sip by sip of extra sugary milk all blended up.
Maybe that’s what reminded you that you didn’t want to die. That life wasn’t so bad.
Because if something that small can bring a little joy, then hey, maybe it’s worth sticking around to see where else there will be.