cold refreshing

it's gotten cold again, and this pleases me. i don't want the heat to advance too quickly. yesterday, my girl said to me,

i like to be with you.

and then, i ran her off. ever the imperfect mother. but we did spend hours together, played chess and checkers.

my husband walks in and unloads his directions for the interview in south jersey, and i try to load it onto the gps, but it's overcast and i'm indoors.

so i wander outside, late at night, when things make noises in the dark to startle me.

i was shocked by how many people were out, on foot, roaming about the town.

i tried to get it to work, drove to the top of a hill and sat, giving the little doohickey a chance to catch a glimpse of the satellite, but it's still too overcast. and i'm tired of waiting. so i wind my way home, trying not to drive like i'm up to something. passing a cop car and reminding myself, when one lives by the police station, one invariably passes police cars.

this should be a comfort to me, that our streets are manned by the uniformed. but it is not, old traumas meld in my mind to make me drive with the discomfort of one who has something to fear. and so i try to drive normally, which must look very suspicious. i sat there, going over what i'd say if they pulled me over.

i'm trying to set up the gps for my husband's interview tomorrow.

at least the little hour glass was turning and turning, emptying and filling, the cloudy sky would explain why it would not work. and hopefully, they would listen.

hopefully, they would let me go without harassing me. especially since i haven't done anything. they say this is a free country, and i try to believe it.

all the talk of equality makes me laugh now, not because i don't want it, but because i know equality doesn't exist. and this is my reality. driving at night hoping the cops don't deal me an injustice. that i can be about my business and make it home safe.

the chill air helps me to sleep. my blankets piled thick and high, one of which is electric, as i need help generating heat these days. seems some of my fire has gone out. and i can't get it back. no matter how i try.

so i huddle around the electric fire, the one that goes on with a switch. and tell myself, this is sufficient. to pay the gas man for his blue flame, and trust that it warms well enough. there is no crackling, no dancing, no laughing. but for now, that is to be expected.

and i pull the blankets over my head and breathe through a small gap, trapping in all the warmth i can and trying to stave off shivers.