The crowded stand-still highway led me into work today. I arrived, finally, my pulse didn’t even raise. Those things don’t matter anymore.
Swarming like bees the todos gathered in a hazy cluster. Fogging my vision, my head, and clouding my heart. It followed me. I guess it always does. In an out of that foggy cloud, the urgency, the importance, the hurried pace, the satisfaction of crossing things off the list in dark inky pen. Scanning the list, listen to the haze, scan again, repeat until I feel satisfied.
I create more haze on the way home.
The female voice begins on the audio book, a story of sisterhood and slavery, the park to my left aligns my drive and a woman is particularly peppy in her workout; almost dancing down the trail. The haze breaks and I smile, I look back again and the smile is gone, I am jealous of her. A home for sale, a brown worn fence lined yard, the house that was there this morning down in rubble. I have nothing planned for dinner. Did I pay the daycare? The details and non-detail of it all, with no meaning really.
Looking at my phone, listening to the haze, looking again, repeating over and over. I have no idea what I am looking for. Glancing over to the fridge, the obituary; and I step out of my haze, “Joseph Nardello passed away peacefully…” Why the fuck did I write peacefully?
It wasn’t peaceful. It was bullshit. And the haze lifts and I can see clearly. I hear my brother, “I just want our life back to the way it was before.” My sister, “I just feel like I am alone.” I hear my thoughts for the first time, all day. I should have written passed away suddenly, ripped from our lives... anything but that, anything peacefully. Who was I kidding?
And the haze continues.
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