First, I’m sorry about last week, darlings — it was a difficult week for me, and I really shouldn’t have come out to play, but I’d already been incommunicado for a couple of weeks, and I didn’t want you to forget about me (cue Simple Minds song).
And then today I show up and it’s a picture of dark clouds. With a picture like that, I’m only one Leonard Cohen song, a John Steinbeck film, and a dead puppy away from having to be put on suicide watch!
(But then, maybe that’s just me)
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Kelly Sands provided the gloom, and I responded with doom.
Her phone kept ringing, but Elsie ignored it. She didn’t want to know who was calling.
It could be her doctor, telling her he was wrong about the tests.
It could be her husband, telling her he was sorry about the affair.
It could be her boss, telling her that he understood about her outburst, and to take as much time as she needed; that her job would be waiting for her when she was ready.
If she was going to dream big, she supposed it could be the Lottery Commission calling to tell her she’d won ten million dollars.
But she didn’t want to know. She just closed her eyes, lowered the garage door, revved the engine, turned the car stereo up, and went to sleep.