August 18, 2017
The slow hiss and purr of the air conditioner overwhelms the room. A sound of dripping water in the background. The air is vaguely cool. The light is that of dim sunshine trying to poke through a sky full of clouds. Though I can’t see outside I sense it is puddle filled. Will there be more rain? I fold myself in half facing the wrong way on my bed. It was comfortable but now quiet aches are growing louder in multiple places. My stomach and head want me to stop writing but I’m telling them no for now. A low dull pressure starts at the base of my skull.
August 19, 2017
I sit just one speck on a giant stage usually packed with people. Warm leather beneath me, a smell of old dusty curtains, a low hum of energy constant above me and yet it feels quiet. Three people chatter in the distance and the sound comes to me in waves. Sounds of children even more distant. The set is resting. It worked hard to impress those who inhabited (temporarily) its home and now gets a moment of respite. Empty chairs (and empty tables) still cooling from the bodies which were recently attached to them.
August 20, 2017
I lay uncomfortably sprawled across my bed. The things we did as kids aren’t as comfortable anymore. The shower water runs in the other room, another human’s presence. Music plays in another room. A quiet comfortable lazy day. Home. I am not too warm and not too cool. The soft bedspread beneath me not yet plagued with copious amounts of cat fur. My belly pleasantly satiated and a lemony aftertaste lingers in my mouth.