Better Alone- Unwatched

 I just woke up with some kind of dream about when I was 12 years old. Now I’m going to give you a small story about PTSD, TBI (traumatic brain injury) and me. October 12, 1980 something I was 12. The day is frozen in detail in my sometimes very exacting photographic memory.   I will pick up the day at 2 pm.  I got into the car with my mom and older brother. It was a white 1981 Chevrolet Malibu. Four doors, white, dark red plush  exterior.  My mother was wearing a pair of orange stretchy pants, a white shirt with a matching orange vest that day. My brother had on  light blue jeans and a “Stray Cats” t shirt and sneakers. We drove to the “Busy Bee” indoor flea market in Massapequa, the town where we lived in. Up and down the aisles we walked, my mother was interested in looking at rope gold chain necklaces. She bought me a sweater. I was thrilled by this garment. It was a beige cable sweater with bands of teal and muted pink stripes. Betwixt each  color...