There's this sadness I think everyone has -- its lack is just as distracting and disturbing as the lack of an ear, or milky-eyed blindness. How does the world seem without it? Does the sky look the same?
When the child was a child, there was no tyranny in its love.
No one home.
Ok. here's the story for today. I haven't gotten mail in days and my plans have all gone haywire -- crossed and prickly. I've lost the addresses of everyone I know and used to know and I'm walking around the house with an unaddressable postcard to my him dangling from my hand when I realize I just want to be stimulated far past the point of speech. The more I try to banish it, the less it will leave. But there's no one to speak to, even. I clamp my knees together, and my teeth.
Too much or too little.
It looked up, smiling, for encouragement, and squinted in the sun.