Stopping By Providence On A Deviant Evening

<p>I visit Providence Care Center, a &ldquo;senior living provider&rdquo; with a rating of average. I seek residents who have no visitors. I don&rsquo;t want to visit the visited because I&rsquo;m not interested in arrogance. I&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;t the stories I go for.</p> <p>I go for stories about fear, murder, and the Devil. They&rsquo;re just infinitely better, and you know it.</p> <p>Also, recently, I&rsquo;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>