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She wasn't even sure if she knew what sequester meant, but maybe it meant something about keeping herself apart from everything - like a jury. She loved etymology because it gave so much context. Her favorite was trying to get everyone to be able to share a group consciousness and finally love so we could move on.
She recalled how she often flubbed words with him - or fucked up meanings - or acted dumb. It felt like being under a spell. She kept waiting to snap out of it and ask him the magic question or blurt out the epic riddle answer, "You just pour gasoline on the knot and light it on fire!"
But she, of course was a Fool.
She made lentils for breakfast and put curry in them and tried to get onboard.
Today, she had been walking and remembered that she had given him a book - Cees Nooteboom. she wondered why the fuck she chose that one. (ah, there's the fuck of veracity). She wasn't sure why, but perhaps it had something to do with a warning.
The only thing she really remembered about it was that it had moved her.
She was going to go to the smoky bar that she had taken Leon to before they went to fucking Florida. She had been fervently invited to play trivia, and she could go - she loved to play with her brain, and drinking and out of the fucking cat house. But even though she donned her brown Calvin Klein (thanks mom) sweatpants and her Athens-acquired blue camo shirt and sandals; she couldn't do it.
A lot of it was because of the pooch she had acquired from drinking and eating and clothing and crying and cortisol hormone freaking since December 28th of the prior year - when she had been - flicked away.
She looked out at the flowers. They were pretty.
It was hard to be honest.
She preferred to self-sabotage.
God it was heavy lately - but not too bad. She had found an archive of Sylvia Plath info and stuff about her mother. fun.
After the rain started, it was apparent she was not going to trivia yet was going to sit and listen and watch rain while a cat sat on her lap.
She was so monumentally enraged, but there was nothing to do but weep. And she was bored of crying. She couldn't even write that he was a ghost now. She couldn't even admit it. She still had some notion that he would remember he had forgotten something and come back for her. She rolled her own eyes,
And sitting in front of a her saying the same things she had wished she had said to him. Well, that was completely weird.
Later, she changed out of her tight camo shirt into the flowing light cotton asian shirt - also from beloved Athens that had the awkward collar. She could breathe a bit better as she began the 1,458,921st hour of thinking about how she could get out...in.
It was still raining. She usually lights a candle for the correct ambience.
He didn't like pesto, marshmallow, shoes without socks, or me.
The fireflies were going to be excellent tonight, and she loved using them as an excuse to continue to not cut that grass. One was right outside her window. She was going to tuck into bed with a mystery or die trying.
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