Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for May, 2012

Grandpa’s not wearing his hat, and his eyes are black and dim, but I know it’s him. The violence of his fall has smashed him. He slid a long way. And fast. He is pulp, but they cuff his hand to the gurney.

We were at a basketball game.

One of the paramedics, a horrible blonde woman, says she thinks Grandpa was careless. Or drunk. Or something.

I’m dreaming.

I lie in bed.

Something breaks free, beneath the skin – some clotted, slick, and burning thing; it travels down my flank, big as an acorn squash. A glacier crests my hip. My body is unrecognizable.

Image

Mom told me on the phone that Grandpa’s stomach has been bothering him. His doctors are running tests. The calves have been branded. It’s been unusually dry, and hot, and the rivers are low. No snow in the mountains.

I find my part-time job largely unsatisfying but have finished another round of revisions on my book. Ryan’s schedule keeps him away, or asleep when I’m awake. Most of my friends are moving to the Midwest.

At work, we watched a video about Johnny the Bagger. Johnny has Down syndrome and places slips of paper with  inspirational sayings in shoppers’ bags. He’s changed the entire store. Now they pin ruined flowers on old women and young girls.

Mom said a woman I used to know — not very well — was killed in a car crash.

We said goodnight, many hours ago.

Read Full Post »