Gray

Endless days of gray. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen the sun. There was, of course, a brighter spot in the solid gray mass above her, but she hardly thought of it as sunshine. She knew, in her distant memory, that she had seen it once, as a little girl.

One morning she'd awoken very early, her sleep disturbed by a big spotlight heating up her bed. She'd rushed to her window, and saw a fierce white disk in the sky, which itself was a bold blue colour. She'd yelled for her mother, who came running, in fear of trouble. They had stood and watched for what felt like ages until the thick clouds overpowered the sun once more. Then they'd gone to the kitchen and had pancakes, and watched the news broadcasts about it all day, until a more interesting story pulled the focus.

That was more than 20 years ago now.

Thoughts

"Fuck you," she thought. She would have said it aloud, she wasn't embarrassed, but there was no point. There was no one around to hear her, and the person to whome the thought was directed wasn't even remotely close by.

She could have screamed it at top volume, but still no one would have heard. So she didn't waste her breath, or strain her vocal chords. She just thought it, venomously in her head.

It felt surprisingly good to think it, so she did it again. "Fuck you, Fuck YOU!" The best part of doing it this way was that she could actually see the words spelled out, poisonous green and dripping with bile, glistening with anger and resentment.

She didn't want to take the next step. That would be too far. She was angry, but she wasn't hateful. She wouldn't let herself enjoy thinking thoughts like those. This was enough.

Ridiculous

It was a ridiculous notion. How could she possibly comprehend something this absurd, this ... nonsensical? The whole thing was beyond nonsense. It wasn't just illogical, or foolish, it actually made no sense. It was the opposite of sense. It was the complete lack of sense. Non- sense, the absence of sense.

She wouldn't believe it, she couldn't. Her brain couldn't fathom the lack of logic, the lack of rational, reasoned thought that fell behind it. It must be a trick, a lie. Someone is deceiving me. These thoughts rushed into her panicked mind. A cruel, twisted, unfair joke. Something that made absolutely no sense like this must be the creation of a very unkind, evil mind. Because, of course, it couldn't be true. Absolutely, beyond a doubt it was not true. There was no way the words strung together by her brother could ever belong in a sentance together. "Mom's had a stroke. She's in a coma. She's not coming out of it."

Those words don't belong in real life. They belong to soap operas and tragic movies filled with Oscar winning performances. In real life Mom's are fine, and watch TV and call you to give you unsolicited advice on how to live your life. They don't slip into sudden comas and not wake up. Their sons and daughters aren't awakened from slumber by phone calls that change their lives forever. They don't just leave without saying goodbye.

They call you to tell you the cat did a funny thing, they bore you with details of conversations with neighbours, they embarass you by telling you how proud they are of you.

They are there for weddings and graduations and to spoil their grandchildren.

They don't die unexpectedly on a sunny afternoon. Moms aren't supposed to die until they are old, wrinkly, gray-haired grannies. The whole idea is completely ridiculous!

Fear

Of the dark. Of spiders. Of heights. Fear of rejection. Fear of being alone. Fear of being dumped in the street. Fear of emotional intimacy. Fear of being hurt. Fear of falling in love. Fear of not falling in love. Fear of that feeling in your chest like someone is squeezing your heart in a vice grip and you can't breathe. Fear of being told "you're great, but". Fear of trusting. Fear that every choice made is a mistake. Fear of not being good enough, never being good enough. Fear of pain. Fear of loss. Fear of loneliness and isolation. Fear of the bogeyman.

Inspiration

Sukothai, Thailand