|
|
Monday's travels ended as they began... swinging to the beat of the windshield wipers. Rather than the "pouring-piss-out-of-a-boot" waterfall in the afternoon (thanks for the expression, grandma), the return sojourn was more like a halfhearted occasional tattooing across the windscreen. So it begins, so it ends. It felt like it was raining all over the world, yesterday... with the mood that accompanies it. Ain't no sunshine. (Insert appropriate soul classic, here) Instead of an ordeal, the long drive was like medicine... like an inoculation against a malignant day. Home. Just what I needed. This double-life thing becoming torture. The house still stood solid, spared from the dire thunderstorm warnings and the yellow-and-red radar storm reflections i'd watched warily over the afternoon in my absence. No sooner had I shut down the motor and opened the car door, i could hear the lonesome distress call of the Speckled Beast from the living room window from above. I'd forgotten to leave a light on... how traumatic. She wound figure-eights around my legs as i walked in, purrbox rattling like a chainsaw... quieted as soon as i popped out a couple of stinky cat treats in her bowl. Yeah-Thanks-SeeYah. This part i dreaded: tired to the point of comatose, my eyes popped open the minute my head hit the pillows. All of the knotted events rewinding and replaying. Why do the bad things come out when you try to empty your head? Soon enough... release. And day returns... just a few short hours, and the atmosphere changes. Like an emotional front had rolled through. Same routine, but without the ominous pressure. Same motions, not as fraught with peril. Same incessant ringing of the phone from "out of area," less curses flung in its direction. Even the return ride was different... a dose of intermittent sun and clouds, patches of warm, less metal kamikazes on the asphalt. Music, suitable for singing along to, blasting into the open air. Some things linger from the previous... no word from the one that carries my name. The Diva pissed, though i'd left her word that i wouldn't be in, the night before. The IM silent. Jobs waiting for me, stacked like skyscrapers. No matter. The sky didn't cry on me, today. |
|
|
