I have drunk so much green tea that I doubt very seriously if I could sleep even if I wished to do so.
Things progress slowly in this lazy land. The days ooze lethargically from morning to night. They seem to echo each other, yet time still drags. Today was punctuated with one oddity. And a disturbing oddity it was. My parents took me out to the local cemetery to show me where my grandparents on my father’s side are buried. Surely I have been there before, but the wash of bleakness the graveyard presented piqued no recognition. There was a nagging similarity, however, to the one in Pecos in which a certain Lee Tarver rots. They then proceeded to show me the four empty plots they owned. Two for them. I suppose the other two are for myself and for my brother. That was never explicitly stated.
It is wasting to be surrounded by old age and obvious mortality for stretches of time. Their aches and their peers’ pains are often the focal point of discussion. Repeated discussion. As much as I love my parents, Thursday will not come too soon.
