04 November 2009

It was a Tuesday, I believe.

Biking in the rain. Ears buzzing, legs weak, whizzing bicycle spokes and splashing raindrops against my sleeves, short skirt plastered to my legs. Leaky shoes. Duct tape peeling off the heels. Damp gravel underfoot.

The Chocolate War. Afraid to read on; afraid he’ll lose. Scary, like Watership Down, how something so tense and psychologically twisting can be put in a scenario as innocuous as a rabbit warren. Or a Catholic school.

Hot car, sweaty face, no-lunch lightheadedness. Running errands. Hunting groceries. Remembered the bags today.

Driving fast, downhill, thunder rolling angrily, lightning tearing at the sky. Music blaring, wind shoving, raindrops tearing.

Shopping with Jonathan. Silliness. Intimidation tactics at the ghetto grocery store.
Calvin & Hobbes in the car; shopping with Mom, wondering how long before she and I will be together, really present with each other like this, again.

One day, drunk to the dregs. It was a Tuesday, I believe.

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