Magdalene Manor-Apt. 300E

I was getting used to being confused. I couldn’t quite pinpoint when everything began to run out of my memory before I could lock it away, but these days nothing was making sense. I wondered the streets for hours on end, searching for clues to my missing past. The Irish pub on the corner was becoming my second home. I slurped drink after drink in hopes of finding some semblance of an answer at the bottom of one of my frosted beer glasses.  My childhood memories seemed like vivid Technicolor dreams, but that certainly wasn’t what I wanted to remember. Growing up in Jupiter apartments wasn’t what I needed to relive. Why I had never left that thirteen-story nightmare was the answer I desperately needed. The cold still seeped through the windows of apartment 300E, in the same flowing way they did when I was a child.  I couldn’t recall how my mother had kept the cold air out during the dark nights, but my solution of a couple drinks at the pub certainly wasn’t doing the trick. My nightly visits to the playground near Jupiter didn’t seem the help my memory either.  So as I trod the barren, run down streets of this old city, I continued to search for an answer. And I continued to be confused.