Chapters: House »
Thursday
Mar262015

Jars

Broke in the new shower finally. Sat right on the floor. Water mixed in nicely with the tears. That honed river rock felt about like I thought it would when I picked it out.

We were nineteen, maybe twenty, when some smartass asked that stupid question, "So picture yourself being put into a jar. Now the lid gets screwed on. How do you feel?"

Him: Safe.

Me: Suffocated. Trapped. And what the fuck is wrong with you? Safe?

Person: That's how you feel about death.

Twenty years later.

Him: I still feel safe.

Twenty-six years later.

Me on the shower floor knowing you can't answer that question twice.

Reader Comments

There are no comments for this journal entry. To create a new comment, use the form below.

PostPost a New Comment

Enter your information below to add a new comment.

My response is on my own website »
Author Email (optional):
Author URL (optional):
Post:
 
Some HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <code> <em> <i> <strike> <strong>