she was like “30-second rule,” and I was like, “Yeah, that doesn’t count with juice.”
The waves were of course nothing like life. I wanted to make an analogy something about jade at the top and dark underneath or coming in sets. Life sometimes comes in sets, but you don’t notice the set until it’s over. I guess life is like waves. I felt like I could throw-up. Well I didn’t actually feel like I could throw up, but I felt like I might be able to make myself feel that way. Which was closer to something than normal.
She didn’t want to watch TV, but was instead inspecting his headboard to see if they might be able to sit comfortably in bed together while they read. It wasn’t necessarily that back support was the main thing, but the thought of doing that seemed sweet, and he had let her read a poem to him in the park a few weeks ago, so her hopes were high generally. There were some people you might ask to share a poem with, and there were some people you should never ask to share a poem with, because they’ll say no, and then you feel about 10 times stronger about sharing it with them.
I was standing in the kitchen, and caught a glimpse of the sunset, not a real one, just alternating strips of blue. The window was open, and I had the sudden feeling that this is what I was supposed to be doing, not toiling away in San Francisco, but making chicken in my kitchen and looking out the window.