The earth moved. I suspect maybe we have broken off from the mainland and have been carried away on the rising waters. It has been relatively painless and will, I hope, usher in a renaissance for Oregon.
Last night I had dreams that life here was winding down and still, the people who mattered I could not gather all together. We had broken cords protruding from our backs. Exposed and unable to speak we crept about slow in the moonlight to the sound of eerie, chilling birdcalls. This left me wide-awake.
Friday night Clark cracked his sternum. I did not reach in and tear out his heart. No, no. I won’t tell you how recently, but I have given up the desire to inflict sorrow on other people. Sometimes these things happen in other ways; mechanical bulls, battering rams, tetherballs... There is peace in this house.
He was forced however to defend his wounded chest repeatedly fighting fierce and terrible battles with my cat who thinks a reclined person a wonderful spot upon which to rest. Meanwhile, stoned on pain pills he is a very effective housekeeper, chasing after me with a clothes hamper and drink coasters. But I am never home anyway. I am too busy out in the world faking it.
So far, it seems to be working.
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