In my dreams I am always good enough.

I’ve got ahold of my six-year-old son, and I sure as fuck better not let go because traffic is whizzing both ways on the cross street, and I know from driving that street at that very same time of day that those drivers can barely see me, and they sure as hell can’t see my 50-inch-tall son.

GOOD ENOUGH BY TOMMY VOLLMAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 54

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