Fewer, Less

There are fewer of us now. We’re down by one. And I have less to say than expected.

I thought by now I’d be up and writing again. Then death came, stealing my brother when I wasn’t looking.

My words chased after them, but haven’t returned. I sit in darkness, waiting.

How do I find my place in this new world of fewer siblings? Do I count down from the top, skipping over one like hopscotch, chalk outline around a missing body?

We are fewer. I am less.

The months tiptoe by, not wanting to wake me. I wish they would stop and sit with me a while.

It’s all too fast, this life. I lie down and watch the clouds through dirty windows.

What can I say? We are fewer now. I am less.

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