it happened in the blink of an eye

The bell on the microwave dinged. The light went out and the humming of the motor stopped. Jason pressed the button on the bottom, right, front of the oven, depressed it into the plastic and metal box. The machine slid across the grey, laminate counter. It stopped when it reached the back wall, chipping the natural stone tile. The door popped open.

Jason reached in with his left hand and grabbed the plastic bag containing his mixed vegetables.  He pinched the hot, air bloated sack with pointer finger and thumb. He pulled on it, bringing it out. It hung in the air for a second. A burning sensation reached the pain center of his brain. Jason shook his hand. The packet of scorching pre-processed produce flew across the kitchen, landing six feet away in front of the brushed aluminum refrigerator.

Blowing on his fingers, he walked across the green, tile floor and grabbed a pear and apple decorated towel hanging from the oven’s handle. He bent and picked up his so-called healthy diet items with a swaddled right hand.

Using his teeth, he ripped a corner of the food pouch. The escaping steam scalded his lips and cheek. He dropped the open bag. Various vegetables of equal size but in assorted colors reminiscent of Autumn rolled and tumbled across the floor. Jason cursed. He stepped forward to wipe up the mess. His naked foot landed on some peas and carrots, smooshed them into a slippery mess, lubricating the space between skin and floor.

He flew backwards, flapped his arms, cracked the end of an ulna on a sharp corner, smacked his skull on the metal handle of a strawberry blonde cabinet, and landed on his sweat pants covered bony ass. Jason laid on the floor and stared at his knotty pine paneled ceiling. His stomach growled.

Back to Normal

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Everything is back to normal between me and my mother. She was so nice to me on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. On Thursday, when she knew my father would be coming home and he would be ok, she was back to criticizing me. I had hopes that she would remain as pleasant and nice as she was on the first three days of the week but no such luck. It amazes me after fifty years I can still hope for change. I guess it is good that hope never dies but it sure is disappointing to be disappointed repeatedly.

My new kitchen table and chairs make me happy. We were left some furniture in the house when we bought it (we bought the house from friends.) The kitchen furniture had metal legs and the table a plastic covered top. The seats were cloth. Not good for cleaning up after a three year old. It was all too big for the space, too. We have an older house that began as a “summer house” on the Delaware River for Philadelphia residents back in the Thirties. Started out small and bits were added on. I found a wooden set with leather-like seats. The table is six inches more narrow and about ten inches shorter. And there’s a bench for the wall side of the table. It has a dark finish so it contrasts nicely with the strawberry blond color of the cabinets. The set has all of the features I wanted. Now I need to find bar stools for the counters. They are metal, too. Clumsy and loud and cold.

I promised myself I would not leave the house today because of all of the running around I did all week but the sky is clear and blue and the sun is shining. I need to write today. What to do? What to do? Maybe I’ll take short walking breaks between three hour writing sessions. Although it is very windy and cold out there. The flags on the sailboat masts in the marinas next to us are flapping like someone shaking out towels. I’ll just start writing and see what happens. I may need breaks or I might not come up for air until it’s dark out.

I think I came up with a job to look for when I get my resume reworked. We had people from our insurance companies come in to do Safety Reviews. One of the consultants told me I had the perfect “skill set” to do the job. I wish I had paid more attention as I don’t know what the job title was. I’ll figure it out. I made notes for my resume, too. I will rewrite my resume during the first week of April and then start sending it out to see what turns up. I haven’t gone on a job search in sixteen years. I suppose this is how people feel when they get divorced after a long time. I can go about three months without panicking.

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