Cotard’s syndrome is a mental disease where the victim concludes that he or she is dead. It starts slow like. A dream I’ve been having since I can recall. It takes on several manifestations, but it’s always the same. I’m older each time I have it. I’m aging with the dream. The parking brake doesn’t work. My father’s Dodge pickup rolls out of control. Oncoming traffic. I’m a kid when I first have it, my feet can’t reach the brake. I have the dream for a month my kindergarten year. I only tell my mother about it once. “I can tell you need to have control of the situation,” it’s one of my ex’s speaking. I wish she’d just shut the fuck up. Things…