Crowded

Posted on October 22, 2005 in Responsibility Sorrow & Regret Weather

A warm fog crowds us these days. It arrives in the morning and stays.

Today a friend fell at my side. She reached for my arm. Driven by instinct, I pulled myself away. Too many times in my past a lunge meant an attack. She fell to the floor and curled up like many broken pieces of straw.

The ball of her ankle swelled up like a golf ball. She wanted her husband to come and get her, so we encouraged her to call him. I don’t think she blamed me. Another friend remained with her while I left with yet another group to help someone else get some furniture moved before a new roommate arrived. We finished the job in about an hour and a half, shaking hands and then leaving.

I headed into the fog, which had risen high over the alluvial plain. Had I failed my friend when she fell? What action could I have taken? Grabbed her? Thrown my body across the floor? The hardest remonstrances came from my own mind. The fog was no help. It crowded me.