Outside it seemed a lot quieter than normal, like a snowstorm when everyone’s stuck indoors. Still there were kids in the back next door making sounds and somewhere, a small engine running. It had a strange peace to it, with a rash of sun all week and the first buds of spring opening on our shrubs. We had lots of food and a freezer coming. In three days Dawn and the kids had eaten three quarts of ice cream and most of the saltines (which we got with a case of Gatorade to help with the electrolytes if one of us got sick). I set up a part of the garage as a kind of medicine overflow area, along with our stash of soap. It didn’t feel like St. Patrick’s Day at all. I got a beef brisket but didn’t feel like cooking it. We watched all the Tolkien films and talked about the fantasy genre, how those characters can channel our need to overcome a feeling of oppression. Wasn’t that why comic books and superheroes were so popular in the ‘60s?
It is hard to work and focus on work. I get distracted easily and keep losing things. And though it is sunny and spring is filling the seats in the auditorium, it still feels empty outside. Maybe what it would sound like if it was just birds.
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Categories: Memoir, microblogging, writing
Bill Pearse 