gollyland is a place where you can’t create and you can’t consume.
That’s where I am right now.
That’s where you are right now.
Void and static.
And for the longest time, this is all I can think.
I finish eating my broccoli and I go to put the spoon I used into the sink, which is filled with bowls and dishes.
My mother says, “Bring everything that needs to be washed.”
I say, “I have the bowl I had for the broccoli, but it’s okay. I’ll use it to microwave my chicken in a bit.”
She says, “Bring it here. It’ll attract flies.”
I say, “It won’t. Flies like fruits and onions. Broccoli isn’t sweet to them. They only land on sweet things.”
And I say, “Just like you do,” inducing laughter in her.