The dog however sleeps soundly beside me on the bed. She does not smoke, but rather stays close. She travels sometimes quietly, sometimes with sleep protection and twitches. She comforts me with her presence.
In the morning the three of us go down the stairs to Mexico. There fresh water is put in their shared honey. I put the kettle on for coffee. The cat starts smoking again and the dog stares. It’s time for animal treats. I pour a cup of flowers to help wake up. It’s time to wake up. To my life, my existence. Wake up to the truth of this complicated world. Stop being so self focused and see what’s around me. Smoking cat, needy dog and a loco woman full of longing.
The phone rings. A voice on the other end immediately jumps into a conversation. I set magic down and go about my business absently tracking his words. He talks fast and animatedly. How about just “how are you? How did you travel last night? Slow down, why so much chatter? My highway is bumper to bumper and you’re on a raceway. I feel I am on slow speed while everyone else is on hyper speed. Except when I went to the small desert town of Terlingua for 10 days. There I was faster and more restless then the rest of the blistered folks. Of course they were smoking a lot of toilet paper. Still it was interesting to find myself needing to slow down and relax. Just when I was thinking I wanted to leave blisters early, I found a book in the free box called “Blisters solitaire” I read it and a passage mentioned “time going by good and slow.” Somehow that helped. I melted into a good and slow time and left when planed.
Now I get off of magic, leave Mexico with it’s smoking cat and staring dog, sweat back upstairs, open my forest, sit on my panty and contemplate what to wear.