A call from the edge of the map

November 30, 2011

On some nights, the air grew heavier around her the later it became. As the clock hands circled toward dawn, the world stretched out under the weight of it all, all the people she loved pressed further and further away. It was as if she sat in the center of some ever-widening map of relationships, the roads growing longer until the night ended.

She had forgotten how to convert the late-night load to something more modest, something that could be tucked in a corner, or under a bed. That’s why the phone, ringing at that hour, startled her so.

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