HOME | DD

Description
Another day without the sun.
It's cold inside this house, like the dead belly of some foreign beast.
I wrestle against a mountain of blankets and sheets,
careful not to let the frigid air in.
I know I should wake myself, and become a real person,
but no one's invited me to the party, and quite frankly,
I'm a lazy little girl.
I face my options for the day - quietly, but also with decided fury.

Option one: go back to sleep.
Option two: face the world, make decisions, find trouble.

It's simple and complicated all at the same time. Sickening.
I make the rocky transition from dreams to rationalizations,
and think about what might come next.
A vertical state of being. Nourishment. A personal pep rally, of sorts.
Again, sickening.
My dirty laundry dares me to wear it, and I give in.
I'm going to get filthy anyway on those well worn streets.
After making my way up from the proverbial dungeon and into the icy kitchen,
I peel a fruit of the citrus variety, and place it carefully in my mouth,
only to devour it in a kind of animalistic frenzy.

I think of my jacket for a moment ... hanging alone in a dark closet.
It's a sad existence, not unlike my own.
Time to rescue that poor jacket.
I pluck it from its hanger, audibly inviting it on today's rainy adventure.
(The brave jacket never protests.)
I slide myself into the comfortable warmth of the jacket,
and put my game face on. The city is calling.

Outside, the sky is a pale, dull shade of gray. Flat, almost.
I take a chance at glancing upward,
only to be thwarted by a few rather rude raindrops who are intent on
invading my personal space.
Onward.
Just as I had suspected they would, the streets greet me with cold,
wet enthusiasm, and I am happy to feel them under my feet.
I find a rhythm while walking, and begin to search for curiosities.
The ones that I find on my journey are vague and
thought provoking - abandoned railroad tracks,
like kilometers of highly engineered veins,
stretching from one side of the country to the other.
Playgrounds and ponds, forests and fields,
all worthy of a long day's play.
Long, winding tunnels of trees and shrubbery, taking me back
to a place that I used to visit so often when I was small - my imagination.
It's dark there now; all of the stars have burned out,
and I'd almost forgotten it had existed at all.

A penny glints up at me from inside a dirty puddle,
and I stare back at it with a faint sense of pity.
It must be cold in there.
I bend over and reach into the puddle, fishing the penny out,
decidedly saving it from an almost certainly slow and painful death.
I am a hero today, even if no one ever finds out.

My thoughts float home, and suddenly, I miss it.
I hear my stomach yelling, reminding me that I need to eat.
I glance first in one direction, then in another,
not quite sure of where I've stopped on my adventure today.
Reluctantly, I pick up my wet, heavy feet, and begin to trudge forward.
I am convinced you cannot go wrong with forward.

After some time, moderate rainfall, and quite interesting conversation with myself,
I find the bright lights and loud sounds
that could only accompany a city like this one.
I quicken my pace, dodging some less attentive pedestrians, eager to get back.
Home doesn't seem so cold now, after all.

When I finally reach my house and greet the front door face on,
I think of how lucky I really am to live this life.
It's good to be home.
I slide my key into the heavy door and push it aside, asserting myself.
After removing my soggy shoes, and greeting my feisty old dog,
I search for a big blanket, a warm meal, and a perfect napping spot.
All three are easily found, and I slip quickly and easily into something delicious.

My life, well lived.

Description
Another day without the sun.
It's cold inside this house, like the dead belly of some foreign beast.
I wrestle against a mountain of blankets and sheets,
careful not to let the frigid air in.
I know I should wake myself, and become a real person,
but no one's invited me to the party, and quite frankly,
I'm a lazy little girl.
I face my options for the day - quietly, but also with decided fury.

Option one: go back to sleep.
Option two: face the world, make decisions, find trouble.

It's simple and complicated all at the same time. Sickening.
I make the rocky transition from dreams to rationalizations,
and think about what might come next.
A vertical state of being. Nourishment. A personal pep rally, of sorts.
Again, sickening.
My dirty laundry dares me to wear it, and I give in.
I'm going to get filthy anyway on those well worn streets.
After making my way up from the proverbial dungeon and into the icy kitchen,
I peel a fruit of the citrus variety, and place it carefully in my mouth,
only to devour it in a kind of animalistic frenzy.

I think of my jacket for a moment ... hanging alone in a dark closet.
It's a sad existence, not unlike my own.
Time to rescue that poor jacket.
I pluck it from its hanger, audibly inviting it on today's rainy adventure.
(The brave jacket never protests.)
I slide myself into the comfortable warmth of the jacket,
and put my game face on. The city is calling.

Outside, the sky is a pale, dull shade of gray. Flat, almost.
I take a chance at glancing upward,
only to be thwarted by a few rather rude raindrops who are intent on
invading my personal space.
Onward.
Just as I had suspected they would, the streets greet me with cold,
wet enthusiasm, and I am happy to feel them under my feet.
I find a rhythm while walking, and begin to search for curiosities.
The ones that I find on my journey are vague and
thought provoking - abandoned railroad tracks,
like kilometers of highly engineered veins,
stretching from one side of the country to the other.
Playgrounds and ponds, forests and fields,
all worthy of a long day's play.
Long, winding tunnels of trees and shrubbery, taking me back
to a place that I used to visit so often when I was small - my imagination.
It's dark there now; all of the stars have burned out,
and I'd almost forgotten it had existed at all.

A penny glints up at me from inside a dirty puddle,
and I stare back at it with a faint sense of pity.
It must be cold in there.
I bend over and reach into the puddle, fishing the penny out,
decidedly saving it from an almost certainly slow and painful death.
I am a hero today, even if no one ever finds out.

My thoughts float home, and suddenly, I miss it.
I hear my stomach yelling, reminding me that I need to eat.
I glance first in one direction, then in another,
not quite sure of where I've stopped on my adventure today.
Reluctantly, I pick up my wet, heavy feet, and begin to trudge forward.
I am convinced you cannot go wrong with forward.

After some time, moderate rainfall, and quite interesting conversation with myself,
I find the bright lights and loud sounds
that could only accompany a city like this one.
I quicken my pace, dodging some less attentive pedestrians, eager to get back.
Home doesn't seem so cold now, after all.

When I finally reach my house and greet the front door face on,
I think of how lucky I really am to live this life.
It's good to be home.
I slide my key into the heavy door and push it aside, asserting myself.
After removing my soggy shoes, and greeting my feisty old dog,
I search for a big blanket, a warm meal, and a perfect napping spot.
All three are easily found, and I slip quickly and easily into something delicious.

My life, well lived.