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No one to keep up appearances for
Jul. 12th, 2005 07:43 amThere is lots and lots of rain. The city streets seemed really empty this morning, like everyone had left for some other place. Perhaps they'd gone in search of the sun, who knows?
The rain is gentle and slightly cool and soaking into the streets. The trees are green. I feel sleepy in my eyes and in this delicious band of muscle ache running directly and horizontally from one shoulder blade to the other.
I had a terrible dream last night, with explosions and people dying and dealing with that horrible feeling of possibly having to live the rest of my life without their presence. Some people came through the blast, and we were sharp in color, bright in contrast, so alive. And we were shocked, and wondering where to go from here. The looks on our faces were the most poignant mix of joy at being alive and being able to touch the cheek or arm of the person next to us, and this stilted rage & grief & disbelief.
At work, the routine continues on. I walk in the revolving door, I let my bag drop off my shoulder as my hand grabs the strap and swings it gently onto the conveyor belt in a smooth motion as I walk through the metal detector. For excitement, I've dug out my ID card ahead of time, so that I can simply walk up to the elevator gates and activate the prox panel without having to stop and dig in the pocket with my sunglasses and earbuds and business card wallet and change purse. I catch an elevator with someone who is going to my floor. We don't say hello. My hair is 80% dry, and wavy from the humidity. Now at my desk, I feel resigned to the day.
I want to lie on my bed and listen to the rain, today. A single lamp burning in the living room, golden glow to combat the gunmetal blue that's soaking into every last angle and curve.
The rain is gentle and slightly cool and soaking into the streets. The trees are green. I feel sleepy in my eyes and in this delicious band of muscle ache running directly and horizontally from one shoulder blade to the other.
I had a terrible dream last night, with explosions and people dying and dealing with that horrible feeling of possibly having to live the rest of my life without their presence. Some people came through the blast, and we were sharp in color, bright in contrast, so alive. And we were shocked, and wondering where to go from here. The looks on our faces were the most poignant mix of joy at being alive and being able to touch the cheek or arm of the person next to us, and this stilted rage & grief & disbelief.
At work, the routine continues on. I walk in the revolving door, I let my bag drop off my shoulder as my hand grabs the strap and swings it gently onto the conveyor belt in a smooth motion as I walk through the metal detector. For excitement, I've dug out my ID card ahead of time, so that I can simply walk up to the elevator gates and activate the prox panel without having to stop and dig in the pocket with my sunglasses and earbuds and business card wallet and change purse. I catch an elevator with someone who is going to my floor. We don't say hello. My hair is 80% dry, and wavy from the humidity. Now at my desk, I feel resigned to the day.
I want to lie on my bed and listen to the rain, today. A single lamp burning in the living room, golden glow to combat the gunmetal blue that's soaking into every last angle and curve.
