Whisper the Word

Until two years ago, I didn’t really understand the meaning of the word dystopian. I should have known that word, but I didn’t. Now I whisper the word to myself nearly everyday. Are we at level five dystopia, or are we closer to level ten? My dreams are starting to reflect an unavoidable dystopian future.

You’re angry. I’m depressed. Not much difference between us. I’m losing faith. I hear my father’s voice and his favorite phrase, “Keep the faith!” and I think to myself, how?. I don’t know how.

Here’s an understatement. Things are pretty damn bad.

But I love you and I’m grateful to have you as my … fill in the blank … friend, spouse, sibling, child, grandchild.

You’re angry. I’m depressed. Understandable.