Shifting Up

I woke dreaming of the scent of cat spray. A molecule on my pillow I'm sure. It was one AM and my head was writing. I had to get up and write. I went to my studio and wrote letters until dawn. Apparently others were sleepless from the storm, and the full moon.

I will spend my life trying to understand and come to grips with my cycle. As I shift up it is like someone has put drugs in my tea. Everything is poignant and beautiful. My sensory experiences are magnified. Words are sweets and spices on my tongue. I lose track of time. I could hear a mouse fart. Music energy pours out of the radio. I am glad to be alive.

At two PM, still in my seat, I realized that the mail had not come, so I ran with Lily, loped actually, to the post office to mail one of the letters. An elderly couple were waiting at the bus stop on the way. The woman had white straight hair, and the hood of her pale blue jacket was up to protect her from the rain. She smiled, showing one black tooth. She was beautiful. Lovely dog she said. Yes she is a real sweetheart I replied. How old? Five in March. She seems like a puppy. We walk a lot, it keeps her young. The couple reached to pet her. I noticed that the woman's finger was frozen. I can't move my finger she said. She showed me her stuck middle finger. Is it arthritis? I asked. They call it trigger finger she said. I get cortisone shots from the doctor. They don't know what causes it. I have it in both hands. Same finger? Yes. Well, at least you're symmetrical. We both laughed. The husband leaned in and said I tell her she can't give me the finger anymore. I was thinking that too I said. We all laughed. You must be doing something right I said, you look beautiful. Guess when I was born? she asked. The year Gone With the Wind Came out, 1948. I was named Olivia, after the film. The husband spotted their bus coming down Social Street. Olivia, nice to meet you, I hope I see you again.

I forgot about the letter. I didn't even care about the rain. I hadn't noticed it soaking my fleece jacket. On my way home I met the lady who wheels the bottles and cans in a shopping cart. She lives in the tents in the woods behind the cemetery. I love this dog! she said, and Lily jumped into her arms. Her face was thin, browned and leathery from years outdoors. I'm hungry. Are there meals here? she asked, pointing at the building. I think it's the next block over, at the church I said, pointing to the steeple poking up over the roofs. Oh wow, I've been waiting at the wrong place. I'm soaked to the bone she said.

When I got home I couldn't remember if I had taken a shower yet. I couldn't remember if I took my inhaler. I was having an Alice in Wonderland day, a day of no gravity, time floating, speedy, fleeing.