Mercy is strained-estranged-arraigned in a never ending lemniscate. I woke up at 3AM to a cat licking my eyelid. I shivered but at least my eyes are free of flies and I think maybe even planks.
Next morning I pull in to the two
floor parking garage- I park on the first and walk through the door on the back
of the building. Elevator to fourth floor. Long carpeted hallway with windows
that only look into waiting rooms, never escaping the building.
I open heavy glass door, talk to
receptionist, get called into appointment. I tell the doctor about what
happened to me. She tells me she’s officially adding the letters St next to my
name. I ask her what they mean. You’ve been through a lot, she says. I’m not
sure whether it means I deserve sainthood for my persecution or just that I’ve
been systematically crushed under the world’s wheels for the sake of misplaced
pragmatism alone.
Have you ever been to a place
where it seems god did not finish creation? A mountain climbs towards the sky
then suddenly drops off where he gets distracted. Rivers begin then are
swallowed beneath the surface of the earth where he forgot to finish drawing a
path for them.
Has it ever occurred to you that
there might be people like that? Because sometimes I think I might be one of
them.
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