The Days After

This morning you shall have chocolate cake for breakfast, and you shall eat it with a silver spoon.
For some time, mornings will be quiet and lonely now, the nights cacophonous and churning.

About three days ago you watched on national TV another competent woman concede to an incompetent man, but, so you have learned, that is what women do when men get uppity and fitful.

The world has not stopped turning. The plants require watering. Your body has needs. Your loved ones are eager for your arms and wise words. The fire requests kindling.

Someone must wrest your daughter’s favorite toy from out the dogs mouth, keep the water flowing, read the books that are worth reading, make music and meals, invent new ways to build buildings, challenge gods, run machines, reach the stars.

Chocolate cake for breakfast will incite no guilt. You’ll go out and see the last clinging autumn leaves.
Walk the roads. Swallow the cold. Observe the wind bend the treetops.

When you notice a man locked out of his car, you’ll go to see if you can help.

You’ll not ask him his place of birth, his religion, his political party, whether or not he is really a he.

You’ll introduce yourself, run the three blocks back to your apartment, retrieve an old wire coat hanger, race back, and together for the next half-hour the two of you will finagle and wrangle your way into his car so his wife doesn’t have to make the two hour drive from Bellingham.

When he drives away, you’ll know only his name.

You’ll think, This is the good stuff. The right stuff. The true stuff. You’ll think this, then whisper to yourself, with a smile.

“That and chocolate cake.”

That’s the way.

Apologies for my long absence. A little over three weeks ago I caught a case of sinusitis that later turned into tonsillitis, and then my country, dear US of A, elected a Pig in a Wig. It’s been a long year. I hope to get back to posting regularly soon. Thanks for sticking with me. ♥   

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