Friday
Daniel whirled out of the house in a flash of toast in the mouth, shirt undone, sexy brother abs showing, sports bag under one arm, smiling, saying,
“Good bye, got to go, I’m late, do I look okay,” as I stepped into the hallway this morning, bleary-eyed, half awake, just cracked the crypt open.
“You could try buttoning your shirt.” Instantly, I felt like Amanda.
He stops in front of me, waving the toast in his hand, kind of panting. His shirt had fallen open, kind of curtains to his sexy pecs and his abs cut just so.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, is this still okay? Me living here? You and me?”
“Yes.” It was all I could manage.
“Thanks.” And then he was gone.
“Button up your shirt.”
The front door banged shut and then it was still and quiet.
My head spun and I was left contemplating how our parents were once proud of their two sons, in the stillness, in the quiet. I looked down at my stained bed t-shirt and my crappy tracky pants and then looked back at the closed front door, which had just been a portal for high energy and high achievement.
A doctor and a lawyer, what’s more; a Jewish mother’s orgasm, not that we are Jewish, of course. And now, I can see it in my mother’s eyes as she looks at me. What’s wrong with you? What’s happened to make you throw away a good job? What’s troubling you?
Nothing, I say. Just taking a break, everything is okay, I tell her. I say nothing of my disillusionment, with law merely meaning money, nothing else, a good career move, there is nothing noble left about it. Not that I need any great big noble thing, just a hint, but there's not even that. I say nothing of my I-just-don’t-want-to-do-it-any more feelings that I have. I reassure her, with all of my best acting skills. You know, I don’t tell lies because I learned years ago they don’t serve me well, and one would assume it is because I’m not good at it, but, one would be wrong. I learned that I am an excellent liar, when I have to be, completely believable. But that would be one of those few things that I’ve learned, it is not clever, it leads to all sorts of false realities that have to be juggled with far greater energy than the truth ever needs.
Keep up the good work, Daniel, I think.
It’s a beautiful day, I see as I enter my light filled kitchen to make coffee. I empty the fragrant coffee beans into the grinder. I jump as it whizzes into action, despite listening to it whizz into action every morning.
The truth is, I’d miss Daniel, if he left. He’s my anchor to the real world, even if that sounds way more dramatic than it really is. If I was living alone right about now, I’d tend to get too reclusive, shut the world out, I just know it. I think everyone needs another energy in their life. Humans are pack orientated, even if we deny it.
I find half a joint in the ash tray. I haven’t had any pot, I’m trying to wean myself from the daily habit, it must have been Daniel’s, I wasn’t going to smoke it. I take it and my coffee outside and light it in the fresh air, as if not to leave any evidence inside the house, for the world to see.
“Good bye, got to go, I’m late, do I look okay,” as I stepped into the hallway this morning, bleary-eyed, half awake, just cracked the crypt open.
“You could try buttoning your shirt.” Instantly, I felt like Amanda.
He stops in front of me, waving the toast in his hand, kind of panting. His shirt had fallen open, kind of curtains to his sexy pecs and his abs cut just so.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, is this still okay? Me living here? You and me?”
“Yes.” It was all I could manage.
“Thanks.” And then he was gone.
“Button up your shirt.”
The front door banged shut and then it was still and quiet.
My head spun and I was left contemplating how our parents were once proud of their two sons, in the stillness, in the quiet. I looked down at my stained bed t-shirt and my crappy tracky pants and then looked back at the closed front door, which had just been a portal for high energy and high achievement.
A doctor and a lawyer, what’s more; a Jewish mother’s orgasm, not that we are Jewish, of course. And now, I can see it in my mother’s eyes as she looks at me. What’s wrong with you? What’s happened to make you throw away a good job? What’s troubling you?
Nothing, I say. Just taking a break, everything is okay, I tell her. I say nothing of my disillusionment, with law merely meaning money, nothing else, a good career move, there is nothing noble left about it. Not that I need any great big noble thing, just a hint, but there's not even that. I say nothing of my I-just-don’t-want-to-do-it-any more feelings that I have. I reassure her, with all of my best acting skills. You know, I don’t tell lies because I learned years ago they don’t serve me well, and one would assume it is because I’m not good at it, but, one would be wrong. I learned that I am an excellent liar, when I have to be, completely believable. But that would be one of those few things that I’ve learned, it is not clever, it leads to all sorts of false realities that have to be juggled with far greater energy than the truth ever needs.
Keep up the good work, Daniel, I think.
It’s a beautiful day, I see as I enter my light filled kitchen to make coffee. I empty the fragrant coffee beans into the grinder. I jump as it whizzes into action, despite listening to it whizz into action every morning.
The truth is, I’d miss Daniel, if he left. He’s my anchor to the real world, even if that sounds way more dramatic than it really is. If I was living alone right about now, I’d tend to get too reclusive, shut the world out, I just know it. I think everyone needs another energy in their life. Humans are pack orientated, even if we deny it.
I find half a joint in the ash tray. I haven’t had any pot, I’m trying to wean myself from the daily habit, it must have been Daniel’s, I wasn’t going to smoke it. I take it and my coffee outside and light it in the fresh air, as if not to leave any evidence inside the house, for the world to see.
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