my mother, in preparation for her own death, dreamed a thousand dreams of those who had died before her. the last dream was her own last breath. this is #427:

he was working on the atom bomb, or carrying around messages and things for the scientists who were working on the bomb. he didn’t really know what it was they were working on, all he knew was that they kept talking about radiation and the end of the world. he was 19 and broke.

after hiroshima jimmy graham looked back, and knew that while his father, a brick layer, could point to the school house and say “i built that” all he could point to was the ghosts of all those mutated people and say “i did that”.

and then he finished his degree in radio engineering and moved on to a wife, two kids, and a decent paying job for a local radio station. he practically forgot who he was, or at least never talked about it. but when he had that stroke in ‘91 all he could say was

“i did that”.

he died with less of an explosion and more of a sigh.