Watching Coins Through Water

Hiding out.

Obsessing.

Curling up.

Building.

This week's interview was perhaps the strangest I've had. Sitting on a wrought iron patio chair facing two other chairs that contained two other people. When one of them stood up, I was provided with a curious line of sight: The gun the person had in their lower back/hip holster, so close I could feel its weight, and, just beyond on a glass patio table, a large glass jug of sun tea being brewed- its seven tea bags bobbing dutifully in stained water.

I was sweating, but oddly, solely from the glare of the sun.

(pause)

There has been an inexplicable calm in me for the past few weeks.  It is not warm sand between the toes: it is the feeling of warm sand underneath the entire length and weight of the body.

There is something to be said of feeding oneself and one's self well, in all senses of the matter.

 -k.


(photo: c Suffering the Labyrinth by Reese Herrington per Geistersucher tumblr)