January 10th, 2014

I took a walk during lunch. Snow had fallen and everything reflected
what sun there was and I kept my eyes down so I didn't slip on the ice
beneath the snow. On Hawthorn a garbage truck pulled over and the
driver jumped out. excuse me! he yelled through the music in my ears.
I took out an earbud. He was old enough to be my father. Yes? Has anyone
told you yet today you are gorgeous? he smiled. No. Well, there you go.
I smiled. Thank you. I wish it had stopped there, and here in this world,
it can. So it did. We wished each other a good day and moved off in opposite
directions. Later on I would drink very little and play darts very poorly,
leave before closing time and fall asleep and dream of an ex. In the dream
we exchange three messages and none of his are honest. It's strange to wake.
But I always do wake. I wake alone to a morning that is mine, smiling
into my pillow, which smells like laundry detergent and jasmine, and
everything, even absolution, is always, in that moment, about to begin.