Monday, April 06, 2009


The curtain lifted as the pungent smell permeated the room. Close the window to cut off one thing or keep it open to clear out another. Something had to give.

Instead the foul stenches laced together and formed a noxious cocktail.

Mouth open head back, she swallowed it, in order to get on with her day. It was going to be a scorcher according to the much too loud tv weatherman.

Her plans didn't include getting angry or raising her voice. Modulated unconcern, enough to appear human, not enough to make her lose focus.

"Keep your thoughts on what has to be done today", she mumbled. It always felt forced, this half -assed attempt at affirmations.

"Every day in every way, I am getting better and better." She smiled and said to the mirror as the stench slid deeper into her nasal cavity.

Damn this. It's not going to work. None of this stuff ever works. Four years and it hasn't worked.

She shook the tooth brush vigorously, then jammed it into the pepto bismol pink protective cover and tossed it into the drawer. Noticing the rolled up, mostly empty tube of floride toothpaste, she thought about the CSI epidsode.

The only thought floating around now was if she had recorded the one where the woman committed suicide and framed her husband for it by eating multiple tubes of toothpaste.

Nah she laughed ruefully. It would have required planning ahead. Nothing ever goes as planned.

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