This article originally appeared in the War on Christmas Issue.
All my childhood drawings of Che Guevara
Roughly half of the weed my mom “confiscated” two weeks ago
A box of baby teeth
All my unsent letters to Santa begging for the new Lego Death Star
All my mom’s unsent letters to the mall Santa begging him to take her back
All my dad’s unsent nudes to the mall Santa begging him to take him back
A correspondence between my parents’ attorneys indicating my parents are finally filing for divorce after years of languishing in a dead-end marriage held tenuously together by some sort of traumatic “accident” only referred to by the codename “Ethan” and now I’m realizing the accident is me. I’m the accident.
A box of adult teeth marked “Our Spoils”
A new Lego Death Star :D
—E. Fogarty