August 24, 2017
A truck beeps as it backs up outside my window, faint but still audible. The absence of the air conditioning hum means the room is growing slowly warmer. The beeping has now been replaced with a faint siren. I am itchy. The cat walks around the room attending to things she sees, or thinks she sees. The itchiness makes me feel like there are bugs crawling on me. Folding over the coffee table I am once again keenly aware that I am not as flexible as I once was. My hips feel tight in the creases. I am growing hot and thirsty. I feel the need to look at my phone, what a stupid thing. An extra limb.
August 28, 2017
My hands cramp as I write. A low rumble underneath me, the train moving ever forward. I am uncomfortable. The seat is hard against my back but cool. Vacant stares in front of me. Surprisingly few looking at their screens. Five stops to go. My exposed toes cold from a draft of AC. A high-pitched screech now and then when the train jostles side to side. A fragrant bouquet of various perfumes. A fluorescent light inside and quickly passing tunnel light bulbs outside. Hand still cramping and now sweaty.
August 29, 2017
The air feels thick, the clouds low and swollen with rain. It is dark in this room, it seems to mirror my insides. My body feels heavy, so does my brain. Slow and sluggish. Quiet besides the barely audible ticking of a clock and a car passing by now and then. The faintest smell of nature, in my mind I believe it’s the smell of rain coming through the open window. The bench beneath me is hard as is the table I sit at, the grains of wood brushing along my wrist as I write. I feel reluctantly anticipatory about what this day and week will bring. Can I go back to bed instead?
August 30, 2017
A bird is quietly singing out of my window and the sound of my cat relentlessly scratching at the pretty blue upholstery of my chair. The tv plays in front of me but without sound. Somehow it makes me feel less lonely. The sun is shining in that glassy crisp kind of way that makes you feel like fall is near. Or do I just imagine that? Trees dance beneath the bottom of the shaded window. Breakfast is ready.