I fell.

 I fell. 

the front door from the inside,
drawn on my phone with my finger
and colored with electronic crayon

Roz called from work: If I went outside - granted that was unlikely - and I saw the car was missing . . . Did I remember she was taking it to take a friend to a doctor’s appointment? I said, Yes, I remembered, because I did when she reminded me.

     “granted that was unlikely” - because I haven’t been out for days. I fell. Not so much down as apart. I closed my eyes because I was weeping and when I opened them the world was shimmery. Objects wouldn’t stay in their shapes. They looked like pictures I colored when I was little and couldn’t stay inside the lines.

     This was I don’t know when but days ago.

This is the kind of thing she is always doing, Roz, taking friends to appointments, involving herself in others’ lives as if she didn’t have enough to worry about. Or as if she didn’t worry.

     I think sometimes she doesn’t. She sympathizes, but she doesn’t worry. It’s one of those things that “doesn’t do any good.”  And I can’t say, “Well, it doesn’t do any harm either.” But I can stay inside.

Our feet reach the ground in different ways.

01.27.20

_______________

 * More on Roz with links, see here.