Indeed

At last I sat at the word processor. At last the day spread out before me with nothing but this blank sheet of paper, with this story trying to make its way back into my blood stream. A small girl stood at the edge of the blinking cursor, reaching out her hand for me to lead the way. We started to walk, and I saw the end was much nearer than I had thought. Reluctantly, I buttoned her jacket, zipped up her bag. I had given her all I had, and all that remained was to let her go.

I miss her, I heard myself say last night on the phone and was surprised by the tears that rolled down my cheeks. Seeing her again today was such a sweet reunion, and I know why I dragged out the bookends. I closed the laptop, took a tumbler of whisky to the fire escape, and watched long drags of smoke circle out of my mouth into the East Village afternoon. Perhaps it was noisy, perhaps it was windy or cold or smelly, perhaps it was exhausting. But inside my body, all was quiet, all was still.

It was a most un-ordinary thing, indeed.