After the Ecstasy, the Laundry...
Walking along, I watch the breeze ruffle my long skirt around my ankles. It’s really hot out, but I needed to walk. Amazing how walking gives clarity, The simple action of placing one foot in front of the other quiets the mind. Or does it?
It’s been seven days since we last talked. Seven days fraught with enough emotional turbulence to make even the doughtiest counselor cringe away from entering the cockpit of my mind. Belligerent fury, sobbing anguish, exhausted relief. It’s been like a checklist for some sort of drama workshop.
“Read that line again, but this time, show me your exasperated humor.”
“Hmmm…how about disbelieving agony?”
“Your previously unimagined gratitude?”
I think I’ll just stick with sad.
I head back home to write.
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