I woke up and heard the rain. It was heavy for a bit but has since stopped. The sky is a light grey. The wind is strong enough to bend the tallest, thickest pine branches when it blows. Even the tree trunks sway. I can hear the train coming.

I’m watching Godzilla, the third American one I think. The creature looks the same in all of his films: tall with its back lined with armored plates, a throwback from the age of the dinosaurs. This Godzilla saved the world from another creature then took its leave and disappeared into the ocean. I always liked these disappearances. They usually mean a sequel.

Gwen is making her voice heard. Last night she was meowing from the hall upstairs. I thought it was Jack then I noticed he was asleep on the chair. It’s a sign. Gwen is getting bored upstairs.

I stand on the deck every now and then, mostly when Henry is out in the yard. It is unusually quiet. I don’t hear any traffic. I do hear birds.

Last night I went downstairs to get some paper bags. On the way down I noticed what I thought were paper towels still packaged. I decided to move them where I can easily reach them. That’s when I noticed it was toilet paper, three ply, ultra plush. I had found a treasure.

When I was a kid, we would have eaten ourselves out of house and home by now. The cookies would have been long gone, the same with the crackers. We’d be eating peanut butter and jelly for lunch and maybe even dinner. I doubt we would have cared. We’d have eaten anything put in front of us.

I remember the hurricane when the huge tree fell across the road. I was only around seven, but I was never scared. I kept looking out the window to watch everything being blown by the tremendous wind. I felt exhilarated as if I were standing into the wind with my arms spread hoping I could fly. I remember snow storms and blizzards. I wanted lots of snow, feet of snow. I watched the snow fall from the living room window where I could see a streetlight on the sidewalk below my yard. I loved watching the snow under the light of that lamp.

I miss people.

This entry was posted on April 3, 2020 at 2:32 pm and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. Both comments and pings are currently closed.