Author’s Note
This prologue is almost my life.
Almost, because I will neither confirm nor deny what did or did not happen, and because memory distorts under pressure in ways that make certainty impossible.
Some details have been changed. Some moments have been altered or compressed. Others appear exactly as they live in my body, which may not be how they are remembered by anyone else.
This is not a scene about facts. It is a scene about experience. About what it felt like to be inside a body making choices before understanding them.
If you are looking for distance, you may want to start later. If you are willing to begin inside the question, this is where it opens.
How the Fuck Did I Get Here?
August 2021
How the fuck did I get here?
My subconscious screams to stop as I slide my nose between the soft cheeks of her buttocks, inhaling crystals dusted from the ashes of my imploding reputation. The powder catches on the peach fuzz of her prickled skin and surges straight to the intelligence-producing part of my brain.
Whatever chance I had of recovering my senses disappears, replaced by a newly manifested invincibility, the certainty that this will never come back to haunt me.
The infallible wife behind a white picket fence. The combat pilot living the god damn American Dream. The philanthropist who rescues every stray. Finally exposed as the depraved fraud they always suspected.
Maybe they are right.
Or maybe they wouldn’t judge so quickly if they knew how this happened.
