Nearly done. Pondering another beer, a few more pages of Alone, what medicines or philosophies will sustain me through the next week (oh gods, gods...). What songs, what ornaments? What steely canyons of reserve? How much pasta can one woman eat to assuage the pain of having chosen to work in the legal profession?
I can take stock. I have a wooden duck and a gardenia plant and a stuffed viking. An eye that has been twitching and itchy and dry. A sore wrist. A broken blister on my foot. A pleasant heaviness in my jaw.
I shall take myself off. I'm doing you no good (nor myself). It would be better to sleep. I'll still be here when I wake up, after all. And in the meantime, I can visit, where? Aquariums are what I've been dreaming about lately. The darkness of the bottom of the simulated ocean, and everything sliding past you, slim and muscular, scaly and cold and impassive, the ocean something that lives for itself.
posted by Reen |link| 0 comments
