The new glasses felt funny on her face. Not bad, exactly. Just something different that catches attention. Like a different brand of margarine, or when a razor has dulled itself into nicks so small you don’t notice to wipe the blood away.
She needed the glasses, though. As the years had progressed, her close quarters vision had become less effective, presumably due to the years of oddly colored computer screens that had burned through her retinas. But there was going to be enough trouble getting that degree. No sense in being stubborn about visual necessities.
She sat, watching the red stripe shrouded reason for stretch marks simultaneously perform Batman and cow air assaults on unsuspecting couch pillows and dump trucks. As she watched, she listened to the sound of the Air Force as their aircraft played amongst the clouds like seals in the waves. She wondered when the green tin can of
would come for her husband. She thought of other families, and wondered what it must be like. To feel safe, to not be paralyzed by the fear that the news could easily hold information that could change life, instantly and permanently. Americana
The planes continued their afterburner frolic, and she watched smiled quietly at the juxtaposition of their roars with the light breeze toying with the sheer curtains. The fireplace flickered, and she knew that she should close the window. Somehow, though, the counter production didn’t matter as much as the peace that came from having a cool, rainy breeze while enjoying the flames. It was times like these that she felt alright. Creative. Thoughtful.
, even. It was times like these that let the potty training, the schoolwork, the cleaning and cooking and laundry fall to the back of her mind. They lay there, dormant, if only intermittently so. Soon enough, the world would rear its ugly head once again, and she would be forced to remember that peace comes in small stretches. Like a beach cove or a vintage thrift shop, you don’t stumble across it every day. As well as she understood that you must have bad to understand good, she just as fervently wished that the bad could come in smaller doses, if it need come at all. Normal
As the time of her muse slowly drifted back into her now chilled coffee cup, she again watched the red clothed diaper demon. This time with affection, fear, and anticipation. She was soon to be his only world…his yearlong, singular connection to those which created him.
The thought weighed heavy on her mind. She sighed, sipped the cold coffee, and willed herself to return to the world of overpriced community college textbooks and toddler urine carpet spots. As she slipped back into reality, somehow, the fireplace stayed lit, and the breeze continued to stroke the curtain.
Perhaps she was distracted by those damned glasses. Or, perhaps, she wanted to stretch the peace just a bit longer.