Ka-boom-boom-boom-boom.
The flat started shaking as I was sharing a pomegranate with Mr. Billy. I had time to stare at Mr. Billy, think, "earthquake," put down the pomegranate, think, "damn, it's a long one."
And then it really got going.
BOOM-boom-BOOM-boom-boom.
We're looking around the flat for anything that might come flying off a shelf or a wall. We both stand up at the same time. Our black cat scrambles for her safe place under the bed.
Something crashes in the guest room.
The striped cat holds for dear life to his platform on the cat tree.
We stand ready for...something. Um, do we need to get under a doorway maybe?
I look at the picture behind the couch, swinging on the wall.
It stops. It doesn't wind down. It just stops. Mr. Billy moves quickly to me, puts his arms around me. We hold each other tightly, for a long time. He grins at me, his eyes big.
We take a minute to look around, see what fell. Nothing seems to be broken. We coo reassuringly at the cats, but it will be awhile before they've calmed down.
I'm putting away the leftovers, and it occurs to me: I'm happy.
Moments before I was Googling symptoms (note: do not do this. I can't stop myself, but you're better than me. Hint: whatever you have is cancer), checking work email, obsessing. Now I'm humming as I find a container for the pomegranate.
The seeds blink out at me like jewels.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Nothing
to fear
but fear
but beer
but c'mere
but deer
but smear
but cheer
but here
itself.
Your pomegranate and your Mr. love you. So do I.
I have unruly worries about cancer that predate my own irrational symptom-Googling. Am I begging for an earthquake?
Yeah, boom boom boom. I'm glad you're posting again, Chems, and that you and Mr Billy were there to give each other hugs.
Geo, it sounds like you're making your own earthquake in your basement. My pomegranate and me love you back.
Bones! Grand to see you, from the wilds of the True North.
Post a Comment