…
I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass. I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels.
There,
at the bottom of being,
where the water that makes
this planet a world
is the color of spacetime
the octopus —
How can five small pills be so powerful?
The fear I felt before I took my first low dose of a chemotherapy drug was real. I felt very nervous, had read up on it, had researched it mercilessly. The internet, as always, helped me to picture all kinds of horror scenarios in my head. The printed list of potential side effects that came with the medication didn’t help much either: Possible death. I chuckled when I read it out loud. My husband didn’t think it was humorous at all.
“if the ocean can calm itself, so can you. we are both salt water mixed with air.” ― Nayyirah Waheed
Years ago, when I was 18 years old, at a time when cell phones and GPS systems weren’t existing, I drove all by myself from Austria down to the South of Italy. It was just me, my little car and our old farm dog -a security measure my Grandmother had insisted on.