Monday, May 19, 2008

just until he gets home

The ceiling fan blows overhead. It's been a long hot day. The baskets of laundry in front of me to fold are like mountains I still must scale. I walk into the kitchen to get a glass of ice water, but the dirty dishes beside the sink only make me turn and go back out the door.

I wander down the hall to the bedroom. It's the darkest coolest room in the house. As I walk through the door, I'm thankful for the darkness; makes it harder to see the clutter in the corner. The hunting bow. The unpacked luggage. The empty DVD box. The winter jackets. I think for a moment that I'll put it all away and then realize I have no idea where I'd put it.

I surrender to the bed. The cool sheets feel good against my bare legs. My mind drifts to summer days when I was a kid, stretched out on the cool grass under a shade tree. I smile a little and fall asleep.

4 comments:

for a different kind of girl said...

Oh, Phyllis! Thanks for writing my post for me! This pretty much sums up how things are going around here. Minus the hot part, but I can amend for that!

Bogart in P Towne said...

Were you day dreaming of playing as a child or leaving messes for your parents to clean?

They are probably equally pleasurable.

Therese in Heaven said...

A nice cool nap sounds like a much more pleasant alternative to laundry and dishes!

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