I felt myself falling in slow motion. Over I went and my foot remained in the hole, while my body flung over that way…to the right. I heard a sound as though a thick elastic band had just hit a wall. I looked up. The dog walker twenty feet from me walked past, hitching her brown and white collie to her lead. I was looking up from a funny angle. Max was sitting at my head, tied tight by umbilical lead. I wondered about moving. My hip was hurting. Slowly, I pulled my foot from the hole. The guy on the bike flew past me.
Of the same series…
Leaning back onto the bed…reading the Introductory comments to House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski, Max whined incessantly at my head. I had no idea why, but I thought it might have something to do with his recently favourite toy, Blue Boy. So, in frustration, I said, “No, Max! I’m not getting up to get him…YOU GET BLUE BOY!” Like the trooper he is, he retrieved Blue Boy out of his water dish and proceeded to walk the gamut of the family room with his toy, pouring water, the entire loop of the room.
I rolled off of the bed and hobbled to the closet where I found paper towel and carried on wiping up all of the water and throwing Blue Boy out onto the back deck. Moments of peace and silence can somehow become disrupted even when no one is around.
There are so many layers to be unpeeled in life. The more simple and slow and uninvolved life might seem, the more one discovers in the close-up version of every microcosm.