I awake from a dream holding onto Julie with my arms wrapped around her waist. I’m saying that my Mum is just wanting to buy as much time as possible before she dies of cancer.
In this dream I see a leopard print jacket with a candy pink, pink bow, at the top of the neck – who’s touching my clothes?
The walk to Ambleside is littered with abandoned logs.
A collage collects along the low granite wall where the seams of blacktop meet with the rock.
The wind presses forcefully against me like a new lover. It takes all my strength to walk forward into it.
The clouds spit at me and a crow sprays white splotches across my black umbrella.
I leave the library on my way home with three heavy books curled into my arm none of which I want to read when I get home.
My Mother’s apartment building shivers in cold grey as I walk by. I let the wind pull my hair across my eyes so I don’t have to look into the dark empty windows where she once resided in warm lighting.
I tell myself all along that nothing matters but the feeling of being under twelve today and noticing how connected I am to all of nature as I walk home in fluctuating weather conditions.
Once inside I put on something warm, wipe the bird doo from my umbrella and brew bancha tea. I ignore the days’ old rinsed dishes and the clean laundry waiting to be put away. I can’t scrub a sink or address an envelope right now. I turn the ringer off on the phone, and relax into nothing.
Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets