[Insert what day is it joke here]
Thursdays are the worst, I’ve posited. Today, while texting with a friend after a Zoom meeting in which I cried within the first five minutes of the start, we remarked that it wasn’t Thursday, was it? I said, nope, that it was Wednesday, but that maybe Wednesday was the new Thursday. Is it? Or is it just another day in which we cry in a Zoom call? It’s not my first time!
When I was walking back from my parents’ apartment in the rain I opened up my phone to talk into it. I said aloud, into my phone, Rain, rain, can’t you take this away with you?
Can you imagine it?
I’d like to imagine it. I like to think of all of the bads being gently trickled away and into the storm drains. Down, down it all goes into the sewers. There’ll be a Magic School Bus episode about it. Away, away the rain will go and with it our worries and the fear and scarcity mindset and then, we’ll all hear a pleasant voice, as if standing just beside us, a voice that says, it’s this way now and it’s alright. It’s a familiar voice, one you know but cannot place, but this doesn’t bother you like it does when you can’t remember that one actor’s name that you always seem to forget. This time, it’s a comfort. With the rain gone, the sun comes — you don’t have to open your eyes to feel it on the top of your head. Instinctively your hand floats up to touch the place where your halo lives. You smile. Your fingers reach behind your head to the strings of your mask, your fingers reach behind your ears to the loops of your mask, and you take it off of your face, feeling the air move past your lips. Now, the mask is like rice paper, you fold and fold it until it just dissolves between your fingertips.
I need to remember this dream.
Why did you cry today?
P: I was going to cry, but I stopped.
M: Because I got banged in the teeth by Pia.
Why did you cry today?
I’m asking.
Tell me.
