Every single night, when I finally put the book down because the ambien is making the words fuzzed, I reach over and stare at the picture of my mother that is next to my bed, flip off the light and I put my head on the pillow and listen to my heart.
It beats so intense that I am afraid Robert can hear it. The power of it is felt from one side of my skull to the other while my eyes sting in a kind of sadistic relief. It is a furious throb that seems to echo "One down . . .One down . . ."
I can feel myself measuring time, a countdown. To what? Nothing good. Like a bell tolling . . . there are a hundred possibilities that whisper soft; Robert gone? Rob or Jarred hurt? The government taken over?? Moral Collapse? Being alone. Totally alone.
"Gather ye rosebuds while you may . . . "
There is something coming . . .I can only ignore that fact until I put my head down and count the heartbeats.
It ain't good.
Now I have to go coax sleep.
2 comments:
The mind at the end of the day and trying to wind down from the activities there in can sometimes bring a deeper clarity to thought then any other time in our day. Amazing the way you conjured up a line from a movie and here I sit at the end of a day and think of the same movie but a different line, 'Sieze the day'.
We have but such a short time to make an impression and the very impression that counts the most is, 'have I siezed the day for God and is He pleased with what I've done.
Deep, Robert.
I really, really hope you are wrong, Jackie, with your prediction; but perhaps not. Should I start buying tuna and water bottles?
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