contrast

When I woke up this morning, all the shadows seemed to have a much sharper edge to them than usual. I tried to step around them but by the time I'd showered and shaved and everything in the harsh lights of the bathroom, I'd cut my hands a few times. I managed to convince myself I'd done it while shaving or something.

It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day. The kind that happens when it's not quite spring yet but it's definitely getting there and you just want to be outside. I walked to the park without really thinking about it, and sat down on the bench to read. As the sun moved, the shadow from the big tree moved over me and opened up a big gash on my forehead.

I went to the emergency room. I got stitches. And for the rest of the day I tried to stay inside. The sterile lighting of the hospital felt safe, and the dim lights of the diner. Outside was too dangerous. Even the shadows of the buildings would be another visit to the ER. I stayed at the diner as long as I could and slunk home when the sun was down, carefully avoiding turning on the lights when I got home.

And what else could I do? I stayed up until morning and prayed for rain. The rest of the day I slept.