confession #1

I haven't been writing very much these past two weeks.











When I do, it comes out all sad and depleted, like this:
***
Safety First

When I didn't hear from you, I went ahead and ordered the titanium jet packs. I figured we'd be needing them. I had them delivered overnight and hung them up on the new rubber-coated hook in the back wall of the garage. Next to the two-man kayak and the tandem bicycle.

I waited and then realized that they must not have had your Marlboros at Tubby's and that maybe you'd had to go elsewhere for cigarettes. But, you know, elsewhere isn't that far. Anyways, it doesn't take two and a half days to get there.

I occupied myself at Amazon.com. I didn't want to fall asleep because maybe then when you did come back, if you'd forgotten your keys, I wouldn't be able to let you back in.

I unlocked the door, but I still couldn't sleep.

Amazon.com didn't have any jet pack helmets, but I thought that maybe time machine helmets would do. You are always saying great things like, "safety first!" so I knew that there was no way you'd strap on your jet pack without one. There weren't any time machine helmets for sale either.

I bought two snowboarding helmets because crashing into clouds, which is one of the hazards of jetpacking, is somewhat like crashing into snow. I'm pretty sure that snow is harder, even.

I wish that there were time machine helmets on Amazon.com because that would mean that there is probably such a thing as a time machine. And I would like to go back to the point where you opened the door to go get your cigarettes and ask you where you are really going.

Only I'm not sure when you knew that you weren't just going to Tubby's. So even if I could go back to that opening-the-door moment, I don't think that you would be able to tell me where to find you now.

Wherever you are, I'm hoping you remember safety first.
***

(!)

[photo taken on the couch in the sun room of my house]