notes from the road: part II. the ballad of rocky raccoon

bible dip, courtesy the gideons: "and the angel answered and said to me, 'these are four spirits of heaven, who go out from their station before the lord of all the earth'" zechariah 6:5

foreboding. four horsemen. four four four. approximately the number of times someone said, today, "that's my grandma's name," or, "hey, is my grandmother here?!" or, "wow, i like that name." nod. smile. laugh, even. resist the urge to say, "never heard that before." apparently, the denizens of this place cannot count originality as a strength.

there were peas in my dinner. i hate peas. i picked them out, timidly, at first, then recklessly, dissecting my meal, discarding the peas to the edge of my plate. there's always something, it seems. at dinner, we talk of horror movies and ghost stories and pass a haunted house on the way home; the taxi driver says, "people love that place; they take pictures through the windows and strange figures appear in the images." and johnny depp gets sucked into a bed. and there are four iterations of "saw," and i am in this hotel room, alone, on a high floor, and on the tv, someone just put a tarantula in his mouth.

the back of the bible is sticky, like a child laid it in a puddle of spilt juice. everything went wrong when we arrived, when i arrived, to an empty, carpetless booth, like a prison cell in the middle of an opulent mansion. boxes everywhere, seeming to multiply as did my confusion; finally it was determined: someone forgot to place our order. so i order new stuff. carpet. padding for under the carpet. three, no two tables, a stool, of course a stool, and a wastebasket. an easel. oh, a sign. all this for 9x10' of space. unload books from, arrange them, dis-arrange them, put them back in boxes, ship them off. talk to people to talk them into doing things. realize the best way out of a sticky situation dressed up as a teaching moment is not to speak at all. wait out the rain with papa on the phone.

try not to be scared of the shower.

dream of vegetables and your own bed.

wonder if the bible opened to the apocalypse because of your own fear, or as a warning.

sleep. sleep. sleep.