Summer Still

[rejectomorph]

The afternoon gives strong hints of being perfect, though I'm too muddled to be able to tell. There was a small second crop of jasmine blossoms this year, and a small second crop of golden poppies. The cat spends the warm afternoons in the back yard, napping in one shady spot or another. Sometimes I go out and sit on the porch and watch her, and look at the shapes of the fully-leafed trees and the patch of sky to the south below that lately vacated by the sun. There are softer spots about than my back yard, I'm sure, but I have no way of finding them and would have no way of reaching them. Nothing has ever been quite what I've imagined it could be. I sit until the hard chair begins to make my bones ache, then walk about stirring a bit of dust from the desiccated lawn before going in. Something outside the shrunken world hovers at the edge of my dazed thoughts. The cat just naps and doesn't care.

Comments

[marseille.livejournal.com]

Are you any better? It doesn't sound like it. Really, you should see a real doctor. This could be fixable, and "head-yanking" sounds pretty awful.

[rejectomorph]

The head yanking has to take place regardless of whatever else is wrong (infection or whatever.) Head yanked now or neck surgery later are the alternatives, and surgery being way beyond my means it's head yanked now.