"It's passing," I hear her say. "It's going by too quickly. I've just started to really live." I look out the window at an ice covered field. A yellow ladder leans against an old building. Beneath it blades of grass stick up through the snow, dark green against dazzling white. I wait for her to continue. I've got as long as she needs.
"Most of my life I've lived how other people want me to live. I went to the right church, married the right guy, raised my kids the right way.. I believed it. It was just how things were supposed to be. I even judged others who didn't live like that."
When I turn from the window she's shaking. She's still wearing my shirt, unbuttoned, her breasts pale against the light blue fabric. I wonder if she'll always reassess her life like this after our time together. It doesn't really matter I decide. She's right. It's passing. It's all passing.
I return my gaze to the grass beneath the ladder. It's so green.
No comments:
Post a Comment