It feels nice to have plenty of time to get caught up in my correspondence and to talk again to the people I stopped talking to a year ago. For the first time in a long time, I feel peaceful and in control of my life. A life out of love is swell, like I’m in my mind and heart again. Like I pulled back the pieces of my soul, glued it back together, and shoved it back in my chest. Pretty soon, I’ll be able to see people again and not feel panicky. I’ll see my friends again, and tell them—Yep, I’ve been out of commission for a whole year, been going through some rough times, but I’m ME again. Well, maybe I won’t be able to see my friends again soon—still have some weak moments—but maybe in a few months.
This is the person I like being. Not that love-sick, pathetic other creature. I hate being crippled by my emotions.
We three are sitting outside half in shade and half in sunlight. Me, little sister Kim, and bunny. Bunny is on loan to us for a few weeks—we are bunny-sitting. I will miss bunny when she is gone. She is tawny and feisty, but there are times when she lays quietly in my arms with her head tucked into the crook of my right elbow.
I’m tanning my legs. It’s embarrassing when my legs are so white, they glow. Flies and bright yellow bugs are landing on the white expanses and walking around. Kim is next to me drawing trees, honeycombs, and sunlight. In between some grass blades, the sizeable torso of a worm glistens. Maybe the worm is sunning too? The worm arches its torso, and I wonder what would happen if I slice it perfectly in half. A fly has landed on the heel of my right foot. The calluses on my heel make it strange to watch the fly walk along the side of my foot.
In the distance, bees are hovering, dashing down from flower to flower. The fly walks nearer my big toe. I flex my foot. The fly doesn’t mind. The ice cream truck is making its rounds—absolutely stupid music—a few trumpet blasts every few seconds. Most annoying. Tawny bunny is feasting on strawberry leaves. Kim and I stand up and play kick ball. Every time I glance over at bunny, she glances at us between the strawberry leaves.
A red-breasted bird hops about on the grass. Should I tell bird about fat worm? I think not. The shadows of larger birds pass overhead. The trees are dancing in the breeze. Sounds like the pitter patter of gentle rain. The sunlight sparkling on the leaves makes me think that it’s a party and the trees are waltzing with each other.
There’s so much life in a trailer park on a warm summer day.