Patron Saints of Nothing

by Randy Ribay

besides that, he was one of those people who moved through the world as if he had been around for a long time.

We can only handle so much truth at any given moment, I suppose.

Surely the air your lungs first breathe matters. The language your ears first hear. The foods your nose first smells and your tongue first tastes. The soil you first crawl upon. My conscious brain might not remember, but something in me does.

Truly, none of us is one thing.