In the Prison of His Days, a Child Asks the Grocery Clerk for a Lollipop

“Hugo?  Professor Hugo?”

It is Friday morning, just after 9. I am on register 6 in the store.  I’m working the 6AM-2PM shift.

Hearing a woman’s voice use my old title traditionally produces the same result: initial confusion, followed by panic, followed by a grief so sharp and painful and specific in its placement that it feels like a red-hot poker in my…