Reality is a formidable foe none can escape. No matter where you hide, it will find you. |
Marla spent the day in bed. She’d been there for three days and hadn’t changed clothes, eaten or spoken for as long. Laying there staring at the ceiling, she sarcastically mused, “What’s so special about showering anyway?” Too much light still intruded despite closed blinds and drawn curtains. She pulled the covers over her head, covered her face with her hands, and turned into the pillow muffling her cries and moans. Eventually, gasping for air, she’d release herself from her self-made darkened tomb. If not for that last-minute survival instinct, she’d just as soon have pulled the covers tighter over her head and pressed her face permanently into the pillow. It wasn’t like she hadn’t circled that familiar black hole of depression already. It just never seemed quite this deep or dark or inescapable before. But wasn’t that what she really sought? Escape? This certainly was more than just denial. This river’s rapids flowed faster and stronger, drawing her farther and farther downstream, crashing over gut-tossing falls and constantly slamming into rocks of reality. “No wonder I’m exhausted,” she sighed.“I can’t even escape in dreams”. She pounded her fist into the mattress, repeating, "It’s those rocks! Those damned freaking rocks of reality!” The gray fugue mercifully relenting, Marla slowly rose from the black hole of her bed, shuffled to the shower only pausing at the bathroom door where his pajamas still hung ever since the hospital called last month. Or was it the month before? She’d lost track of time. They still smelled of him. Her body swayed. Her hand trembled as she finally took them off the hook. Sobbing into the soft flannel material, she succumbed, “So this is reality” and haltingly stepped into the shower. |