Rikki is at gymnastics with the girls. Rinah does 8 hours a week. “I’m on a team, and I can do a back walkover by myself.” Ashirah can do a backbend from standing without help.
Would happen if one spouse stopped initiating any kisses or hugs in their marriage? Since the experiment’s start, there hasn’t been a kiss or a hug in one particular marriage. Seven year itch. The twenty year funeral.
Is this it? The monster that I fear I am?
Some friends recently divorced after a thirty-five year marriage. Damn, folks. What now, and what was the point of the last fifteen, the last thirty? Are we just too tired to find another path?
Polyamory. Yeah, right. Antiamory. Non-amory. We light flames with our music. Our wonderful, and painfully iconoclastic blend that fits cleanly into a possible future that very definitely does not currently exist.
Went to–or rather took the family to–the state fair last night. “For Over 120 Years.” Purgatory. The carnies. Some friendly. Most tired. Large noses, misshapen jaws, narrow eyes. What drugs were you doing last night? What are you on now? Please, put my six year old on your rickety metal machine that turns her sideways at 40 miles an hour on a metal track.
The music. A cover band sings, “I got friends in low places.” Hit songs of the past five years. Disco here. Hard rock there. Alcohol is served. Dollars are exchanged. Five dollars is today’s dollar bill. Everybody wins a prize. Giant dolls. Inflatable animals. “It’s the fair, you’re supposed to have the best time of your life”, one caller suggested. Purgatory.
What planet are these people from? What planet am I from? Are we the same species? Philosophy descends like a fog. Zombie walk from ride to ride, game to game, guided by Ashirah. Leaking five dollar bills. We eat dry french fries and bagged cotton candy. I skip the cotton candy. Once you’ve had crack…