Stopping By Providence On A Deviant Evening
<p>I visit Providence Care Center, a “senior living provider” with a rating of average. I seek residents who have no visitors. I don’t want to visit the visited because I’m not interested in arrogance. I’m interested in sharing my powers of visitation with those in need, those who will not have to pencil me in next to some dumb grandchild success-story jackass. I go to be a five-foot-nine, 185-pound middle finger to the American way, the one pledging allegiance to youth and believing the disappearance of strength and memory pulls the bathtub plug on your humanity too.</p>
<p>Also, I go as a harvester of stories. There’s so much to gather from the long, long lives. Am I particular? You bet I am. I tolerate stories about your choir days, or the times when nickels and dimes had meaning, or about your childhood dog who is now as dead as a pharaoh. I listen. But these aren’t the stories I go for.</p>
<p>I go for stories about fear, murder, and the Devil. They’re just infinitely better, and you know it.</p>
<p>Also, recently, I’ve been going to play Spin The Bracelet.</p>
<p><a href="https://humanparts.medium.com/stopping-by-providence-on-a-deviant-evening-d1ae32bfb619"><strong>Click Here</strong></a></p>