giphy

electrical problem perhaps, a beeping, something out of order, won’t turn on, so I have a flashlight and I’m peering under the house, into the crawlspace with its musty dampness blowing a chill in my face, there’s the gas meter— “excuse me,” who’s this? some big old white haired guy in work clothes wants to get by, i’m crouched in the way, so I rise up— I don’t recall the sequence of events, the rationale or the transit, except that on a grass land, or on a vast slope of grass exposed to the blowing sky, the wind out of the sky, a woman is curled up in fetal position, in shock, middle-aged white woman eyes closed, wearing nothing more than a thin night shirt or pajamas, suffering some kind of psychological collapse, her skin is blanched, pinkish, her face slack, large nose and eyes closed but she’s slightly wincing, registering the buffeting wind that whips her short hair, she looks like an ordinary exhausted middle-aged woman and nobody is around, she might slip away in hypothermia under the endless wind, the endless sky—oh hell, i think, as i lie down in the cool grass beside her, put my arm around her, try to lend her some body heat…

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