she wanted

The Flood

I am introduced to the importance of vacation and being centered, one quick step toward a decision and things fall into place. 

Movement is hard for me. As of late, my mind has finally settled from previous trauma. I can't help snuggling down inside stability; starting clean from living without hope for years—I just wanted to preserve that cleanliness. Like a freshly laundered shirt.

So I skirted purchasing things and plunged into twelve hour sleeps. I learned a hard day's work,  9–5 to stay alive, and found no rewards. I wrote three pages a day, organized into annotating scripture in the morning, morphed into a real-live flood and plumbing issues. I was addressed internally, brought out externally, fussing the entire way.

Pointing fingers the entire way. Things have fallen apart before, it's material they say, and I know better. There's no issue, just slight inconvenience to move and do "a think about it." 

And so I was brought to a land with misty rivers and sunsets that aren't seen through windows. A place that changes temperature without warning, dropping dead pine needles and rain occasionally.

Funny how just touching toes into cold spring water rearranges the soul.