Another journal

You can find all the sections here.

Emily woke to strong autumn light pouring in the window. The lamp had been turned off and the knife was back in its sheath on the dresser. She struggled out of the tangle of covers and padded to the kitchen. There was a note on the counter from her aunt, weighed down by the butter dish. It was short; it let her know that she’d been asleep for over a day, the rest of the court knew she was back, there was a meeting that evening and Janice was at work and would be back after five.

Looking at the clock, Emily saw that it was just past three. She’d slept nearly thirty-six hours. her mouth tasted awful and she brushed her teeth in the shower, soaking in the pounding hot water. Her period started as soon as she’d changed into fresh clothes. It was heavier than usual, as though her body was trying to underline her mortality and the mundaneness of the world.

In clothes that felt like a stranger’s, she went out to the porch. The hammock was put away for the season and fallen leaves had been tracked up onto the boards. Emily shivered and went back inside for a sweater. She wondered what month it was.

Wandering the court felt like a dream. Everyone seemed to be at work, though Emily thought she saw a curtain twitch in at least one trailer’s window. She kicked through leaves to the line of oaks, looking up into their half-bare branches. The pavement next to her was simultaneously familiar and foreign. Emily leaned against a trunk to watch cars speed past. Cars! The road had been widened, a brightly marked bike lane mirroring parking across the street. While she stood there, at least a half dozen people bicycled past. Emily couldn’t remember seeing that many adults biking in a week, let alone a quarter of an hour. She thought of her bike with a shake of her head, Janice had probably sold it years ago.

Knots of teenagers wandered past, laughing and shoving each other on their way home from school. Emily felt like she was seeing double. how many months ago had she walked home from the high school down the road? Three or four to her and dozens and dozens more as far as the world was concerned.

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.