Where Is My Mind

Like most days it started with a song and sort of wandered off from there. There was a breakfast table surrounded by boys and windows, and the latter was covered both inside and out.  The inside held bats and ghosts and assorted ghouls grouped more by the restrictions of a child’s reach than status or storyline. The outside was layered with a morning fog fresh off the mountains and bullets of rain that ricocheted into the flowerbed below.

The boys sat with their backs to the window and their attention in their cereal bowls. A car drove past and between a grinning skeleton and a winking witch I saw my tired neighbor driving home from her last round of radiation. She drove slow enough that I could just make out the twinkle in her eye beneath a brow that has been too heavy for too long.  She looked exhausted and victorious.  She glowed through the fog and the rain between us.

I dropped my wife and the boys off on the curb in front of the airport. The white zone is for the immediate loading and unloading of passengers only. Our hugs were tight and quick.

I drove home with a little boy’s tears wet on my shoulder. I had no place else to go.

There is a sudden silence in a house without children.  It is haunting and lonely.  It is also clean for extended periods of time.

Still, it is better loud and dirty.  The ghosts and ghouls know it. They are ignored so far below eye level.  Even the smile carved across the pumpkin looks forced. There is a sadness where seeds should be.

The street is quiet and the neighbors are sleeping. The rain will fall for days and it suits me fine.

Related Posts with Thumbnails

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

CommentLuv badge

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.