electronic correspondence with my mother-

I hear the static of your absence.

Once, our connection grounded my existence.

Our link was simultaneously biological, chemical, maternal, familial, irrational, painful, and sickly.

As your mind continued to unplug slowly from the rational world, our network grew weak and then, suddenly, any meaningful interface dropped altogether. Yet day in and out and in again, the reverberations of our unnecessarily shared fears and tumor-like interconnection linger in my mind and no matter how hard I slam my palm against the machinery or adjust the bunny ears hoping to clear the snow-like images, the static remains.

Each memory blinks on high frequency but is clouded in the cacophony of screaming, mixed up, mis-matched wires, crossed over one another unwittingly creating a spark that will lead to the fire that may burn any chance of renewed or reenergized potential plug-ins.