It has been quite some time since I was hit by an Escalade walking into work. It has been a while since I've felt that hot grill against my back.
Last night I got hit by a car three times in my dream. Each time I could hear my ribs cracking and my faint cries trying desperately to ring above the roar of the engine. Each time I felt worse and quieter. The driver could not hear me. The world forgot I existed. Sometimes I feel like this. Sometimes I care. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes I just need some space, but the car keeps backing up.
I woke up this morning feeling achy and not entirely ready to begin my day. Even as I threaded my arms through my black blazer and slipped on my black loafers I recognized that my maturity was present, but hiding behind dream bruises.
I need a vacation.
2 comments:
I'm glad that you are writing again. If you need a vacation, please come and visit us. I promise I won't let Stella jump on you.
If you visit your sister, I could escape to NY for a weekend! Oh, the damage we could do!
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