Part 4: Guess Who

I’m sure I forgot something.  Always do.  This is happening.  This has happened.  This has happened!!  I didn’t know this would be the day.  As good a day as any, I suppose.  But it’s like I always think when I hear of a fatal accident:  they didn’t know that this was the day they would die.  They just got ready for work like they always do.  They had plans and loved ones.  Plans for those loved ones, plans with those loved ones.  But then I comfort myself–restore some equilibrium–by remembering that people just live, until they’re not.  They’re conscious . . . of being conscious.  No, not usually.  It’s something else.  Nobody thinks about dying, at least not in any sustained way.  Maybe if they’re terminally ill, but even then, don’t we have a nagging optimism that things will work out in our favor?  I do.  We don’t want to be one of those who thinks, “That will not happen to me.”  But we do, at least until something really floors us.  Even then, though.  As long as we’re still breathing, there’s hope, right?  Anyway.  Circular thinking.  Enough.

photo (3)

 

Things to do.  I have to break the news.  I have to . . . “MOVE!!  There was NO one behind me!  WHY?!” . . . Don’t have to do it right away.  Is this freedom?  At least until the money runs out.  Freedom for an afternoon.  Interim between slaveries, what it amounts to.

 

I’m going to miss this turn on purpose.  Good sense of direction.  Has to cross a main road at some point.  South.  Traffic not bad yet.  Afternoon fog.  Odd.

 

* * *

 

Only one here . . . “Ice in the trees is melting.  It keeps popping and crackling above me.  I feel like it’s gonna crash on my head.  Sounds like it’s raining, too, even though it’s not.”  Better not hit ‘send.’  She’ll know I’m not at work.

 

* * *

 

No one here but me, the ghosts, and the deer.  How strange for rain-sound to be quarantined in the woods.  Isolated noise?  Roosters–two of them–crowing a few acres away.  Sun ignoring them.  Rain patter on my right but not on my left.  Stubborn fog, thickening here and thinning there, but not lifting.  Horse-hooves on pavement.  Other side of the hill.  I am not alone.

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