There was a moment, just before the foul ball dropped into the stands, when she thought about where she would put it in her house. It could go on the mantel, in an acrylic box, next to her wedding photo and the candlesticks her grandfather made in his metalworks shop. It could go in her office. Or it could go in that shoebox in the closet, the one where she kept notes from old boyfriends, photos from when she weighed less, and dried flowers from that night when she danced. Really, really danced.
Tornado weather
April 10, 2008Rain falls here and tornado weather approaches, the spinning atmosphere inducing nausea. Planes take off ahead of the storm. Planes land in more hospitable climates. Clocks, wound tight, spring forward.
Look ahead: resolution awaits.
Ring
April 8, 2008I spotted the ring spinning with the rest of the jewelry in the turntable case of the antiques store. I watched it go by six times before I asked the clerk to take it out, before I slid it on my finger, before I told him to hold it for me, before I bought it and began to wear it daily, its blue stone, marbled like the the surface of the Earth, reminding me that there are worlds out there, worlds waiting for me, worlds that I cannot wait to join.
Small words change everything
April 6, 2008He waved from the doorway and offered the kind of advice that feels as if you are seating in a roller coaster at the crest a hill. Small words change everything, you think, noticing how much the edges of the world just sharpened, how much the colors just popped.
Choking
April 4, 2008It started as a small cough, up near the top of her chest. Then it became harder to catch her breath. Later, her airway closed almost completely, as if, in an instant, her body had decided it no longer needed oxygen.
She ran outside, hands clasping her throat, hoping someone passing by would see her and offer their assistance. But as soon as she stepped outside, her throat opened back up, wide enough to get all the air she needed to breathe, to run, to dance, to sing.
Smackdown
April 2, 2008No one cared about the Yankees-Indians game, not even when the score hit Yankees 3, Indians 12. She was the only one thrilled to watch, even though the bar’s television showed more fuzz than ball.
They were all waiting for the Cubs game, oblivious to the sheer joy of watching a pinstripes smackdown.
No appropriate gift
March 30, 2008She had made a habit of planning something for the day, even if he claimed not to care or, sometimes, not even to remember it.
Thus, breaking that habit was difficult. There wasn’t even anything appropriate to give—her heart was off limits, after all, back behind the barbed wire where, some days, she wished she’d kept it all along.
But she could not lie. Her nature was this: to buy a card, to see a gift that would bring a smile, to want to buy it even if the giving no longer made any sense whatsoever.
100 Proof 