Thursday January 10, 2019
Life After Life
I knew it was coming. It was like when my grandmother used to know that it was going to rain. Her bones would ache. I woke feeling agitated, restless, cold. Nelly had been out late with Rebecca, and she slept later than she usually does. Even for Sunday. I made waffles and turkey bacon. I made a second pot of tea. She came downstairs rubbing her eyes, bun askew on top of her head.
“Morning,” she yawned, but there was a coolness.
“Honey… – ” I looked at her and she held my gaze.
“Rebecca said that Barb said that you have something to tell me?”
Fuck Barb. I can’t believe I used to trust that woman. Fuck.
I knew it was coming but then when it does it still feels like a sledgehammer, like a slicing, like open-heart surgery.