Hello
March 27th, 2007
today i am watching from the outside, from across the street, from a wire-and-steel chair that leaves imprints on the back of my legs if i sit for too long. the metal shutters are down and covering the entrance, but the side door is open. i know why this is so, and i know what’s going on, and i have to smile that i still have this knowledge retained. and then there are all these people milling around the door, laughing and talking, but i dont recognize a single one of them. not one. this frightens me. suddenly one boy turns around and sees me, and he squints at me in recognition, but i dont respond. because truly i dont know who he is. a few minutes later, francis, i remember francis, comes out to talk to them, and when they leave, he makes a phone call and stands there pacing the steps, deep in his conversation. this is the exact same scenario from last week. and the week before. and the week before that. a lot has been lost and forgotten. lemon cake, silhouetted movements, saturday evenings, sunday mornings, jazz brushes and a sense of belonging.
