Your appointment is confirmed. Be here in an hour. You throw on clothes strewn around the floor, drag the car out of its icy cradle, make your way to unknown corners of the Bronx. It's quick, so quick you do not have time to catch up with the moment as it passes, aren't people taking selfies?
Are we supposed to be taking selfies?
The nurse asks if I have any questions. But I am all out of questions now, it's been a year of torment, I drove out to the Bronx at the turn of a dime, what questions could possibly bother me now?
He calls, later, to explain the winding turns of a life, and you wonder when the snow will thaw at last. The car is parked in a new snowdrift, my arm hurts a little but not more than the alternative, as we said. All the alternatives have been hurting so much, for so long.
The hurt isn't over.
But oh there's a chance it's working its way out.
No comments:
Post a Comment