Friday, December 9, 2016


I've lost the knack of quiet.  Instead I rumble through my house, clanging pots, clinking dishes, shuffling bills, groaning under the weight of one burden or another.  Adulthood is many things, but it is not quiet.  When I stumble into a pocket of quiet it's like hitting a bump on the airplane- I'm suddenly suspended, unmoored, unhinged.

It's one of life's pettier cruelties that one prepares and prepares, in one's early years, but never for the right things.  Solving for x instead of scrubbing poop out of bathmats.  History instead of taxes.  How to sing instead of how to shut up.

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