Departed trail & Bitter trials.

The pain of a problem solved

A virus (meaning a toxin or poison) is a small infectious agent that can only replicate inside the cells of another organism. Viruses infect all types of organisms, from animals and plants to bacteria. Although there are millions of different types, and are found in almost every ecosystem on Earth, in 2001 the world was hit by an epidemic of viruses starting in the U.S. with the West Nile virus which transmitted through mosquito vectors. The first appearance of WNV in the Western hemisphere was in 1999 with encephalitis reported in humans, dogs, cats, and horses, and the subsequent spread in the United States. The American outbreak began in the New York City area (specifically, College Point, Queens); the virus is believed to have entered in an infected bird or mosquito, although there is no clear evidence.

  The first case in North American was in 1999, and soon the virus had been reported throughout the United States, Canada, Mexico, the Caribbean and Central America; the western hemisphere was infected. According to geographical areas, infected mosquito species varied; in California it was pools and lakes, basically anybody of standing water where mosquitoes can breed. A high level of media coverage through 2001/2002 raised public awareness of WNV, which was thought to help bring awareness and it did but also brought paranoia. Cities were covered in fear; masks were daily recruitments to interact with the public, those who were infected were quarantined in hospitals and their homes were deemed hazarded and sealed off from the community. The world was shaking and afraid that WNV might spread over oceans on planes and on boats, research was expanded to understanding the viruses’ transmutation through mosquitoes.

The United States kept records of West Nile infection cases to track and later mange the infection rate, in 2009, there were 663 cases; approximately 1 in 150 people who got infected. The total mortality rate for 2009 was 30 deaths of the 663 reported serious cases, that is a 4.5% casualty rate, but only of the severe infections. Approximately 80% of cases have no symptoms, and therefore the total casualty rate would be less than 1% of total infections in the U.S. Control over West Nile Virus began with the control over mosquito’s, by elimination of mosquito breeding sites, and encouraging personal use of mosquito repellents. The public was also encouraged to spend less time outdoors, wear long covering clothing, apply bug repellant that contains DEET.  

But with all the warnings many still lived normal lives with threats rising and getting worse, it wasn’t thought that a new virus wouldn’t surface but it did. After the “West Nile Virus” it was the “Bird flu” and then the “Swine flu”. Just like WNV people were afraid of getting sick believing that a simple cold could be more than it seemed, masks, hand sanitizer, and caution of others made it in to everyday life to fight of viruses. People began showing signs of both “Bird” and “Swine” flu. In fear of repercussion that vaccination might give, children were left un-immune to the onslaught of disease that came and many died because of it. 

Soon the waves of death came with the lives of elderly and young men and women, their time came with their lives that seeped away in their sleep. Each death came with a line of reprieve, many died from viruses and increase the rate of deaths and dropped the estimated number of people living in meager cities the world was less with the living but was filled with life, the way I saw it. The many were taking the few resources that were stretched already, it was far enough to support needs but each live taken left more for the world. I lived in an overcrowded world filled with fear that the person next to you will die if they showed a sign of a simple cough, fevers were treated as a sign of a plague and everyone stayed clear of you. The flu seasons were mine fields, when a few people now and again would disappear you would always worry if they were sick or dead.

Taking the bus and seating by others wearing masks was different when compared to the months and years before, it felt like I woke to a world that changed in a night of sleep were everyone woke to paranoia. My teachers would always ask us if we felt sick and to stay home if so, news shows told listeners to keep germ free. Protestors yelled for a vaccine’s saying that it was needed; a few parents didn’t vaccinate their children because of the risk of a brain disorder called Guillain-Barre Syndrome (GBS), which could be triggered by the vaccine. GBS attacks the lining of the nerves, causing paralysis and inability to breathe, and can be fatal. More people died from the vaccination than from swine flu; the vaccine may have increased the risk of contracting GBS by eight times.

Sides were made on this issue, but it didn’t matter to me when all I saw was massive hysteria on TV’s and on radios, in the news paper articles that I seen people read while waiting on the bus. I hated the world for its stupidity and its outlook on the viruses, but everyone had a choose to chose and I didn’t mind it for I knew things would get bitter. In the history of the United States things always went up and down like flowing mountains, it will get bad and get good and what mattered was to ride it out like a storm. When it comes we broad up the house or dig deep into the ground and keep our heads covered tell it ends, the building will shack, the ground will give way if it was about to swallow you into the earth. After it all we’ll rise up from the ruble, clean ourselves and whatever is broken we’ll rebuild and live on tell the next storm comes.

                ****** 

My room is cold of life in the days before my love. Oh how I love Tess with her gentle finger tips that dig into me while she presses me to her. I don’t know what to do with myself lying in my own bedroom, “9:15 am it’s time to wake up, 9:15 am time to wake up, time to wake up, 9:15 am”. The voice of a comprised woman tells me the day that starts each day is here, the curtains part like always. “Morning sitting in place”, my eyes adjust to the golden yellow rays of starting days light, by me is no one but the remaining imprint of a body’s presences.  

The grooves of a woman that lay, the depth of ahead rested on a pillow, the warmth still cared on its side where she laid on my bed. The smell of perfume on the blanket that is pulled out the way showing the act of her leaving my side to be alone in sleep, I know she’s still her in this apartment. Scattered cloths at the floor from last night, here on the carpet of dark pepper brown. “Hello David”, she was at the door way with a cup of fresh coffee looking at me with a devilish smile, “hello Tess”. She comes to me and sips from the cup before handing it to me, “so what’s today’s plan hmmm”, Tess.

“Well today I’m going to pick up my dry cleaning and leave it in my locker, so if I need it there it is, and I can come here or I can meet you at your place”, me, “maybe”, Tess. She walks away from me and dresses, her red longera to her frame tells me to trace her form, at that head to those toes and each exsiccating curve. Her worn out and down hair falls over with her slopped over back that bends to put her shoes and pull up her dress. Bones of her spin can barely be seen out her tight skin; Tess’s right forearm flips the hair that drapes at her head taking the arch out her back, standing to my eye blowing a kiss good bye. “See you soon…….I hope”, throwing a careless arm half way up twiddling fingers, under my breath with her too far to hear, “me too”.

Thanking god would be silly to do when I didn’t believe in god that much or in that name, well I didn’t believe in the afterlife, I did believe how ever in that a soul doesn’t die or fades away and that it is somehow recycled giving birth to new life. But I never did believe that one being was in charge of it all, yet I’ll have to thank someone, so thank you god and thank you Tess for being with an old man like me. I take myself through this day, shower, walked, train, and I was at the drycleaners. “Hello again, so your here for that suit”, the young miss was there, “yes my pretty Gina and how’s your morning been”, she heads to the side out of view but still able to stay in the conversation. “Well it’s been the slow morning like each morning, you know”, Gina, “yes I know those mornings, it’s like time replays ever day the same but it turns into it’s just another day”. 

“Hmm I saw you leave here with a pretty woman here yesterday, who is she and can there be something more than it seems, like more than a date”. She brings an attitude like a teenager has when hearing gossip about a couple dating that she knew in a high school. “Her name is Tess and yes it was more than a date and still was a date”, me, “how can it be more than a date and a date”, she hands my suit in its black holder (a tall bag). “Well it is and I’ve know for a while, she works at the hospital with me”, me, “oow a romance in the work place you hope no one finds out or you’ll be fired hee”. “Bye and don’t be so mean to the costumers or you’ll be fired”, me “I’m not mean hee”, “that’s what you think”, me with a playful laugh messing with her like I always do.

I walk through the park with time to wave to the mothers leaving and arriving to the park, each one greets me openly just the same as I do with a wave and a smile. They’ve seen me so much in shined black shoes with a dark blue or in a dark suited one with white shirts and colored ties; they know me even out of its office worker stamp. I just move on to the hospital to see my locker and be done with it when a past friend bumps into my morning, “hello David how is it, doing your weekly thing is it”, it was Mrs. Bianca Gomez head nurse of this place and it was now and then that’ll run into her. She was a friend that I known well and loved, and also kept in touch with more than my other friends from the old days of starting out in medicine. “Hello Mrs. Gomez how is it yourself, doing well with these young workers you have running around”.

“I’m fine and I believe I was talking about how you were, and did you finally come to your senses on my offer”, Bianca. “I’m fine too, and on a personal note I won’t want to date one of your sisters, or theirs and yours daughters”, I say this to her every time I see her when she tells me every time she sees me, about dating. “Well I’m trying to be a friend and a friend doesn’t let a friend be alone their whole life wouldn’t you say, and are you coming to my birthday party next week”, “ask me later and let’s see what I say, see you later”. “ You too”, Bianca tells me faintly as we part ways, we had a weird bond where we said things seriously but meant it to be funny and we got it, others didn’t think so and get tense when we say things to each other. Bianca was the type to always look after me when I seem to be down or about to get there.

She was and still is a strong woman who gave her mind after doing what she was saying, I liked that about her. I once saw her correct a doctor more than one once, from giving the wrong prescription to a patient right after he wrote it on the chart, in front of the doctor she crossed his out and wrote hers. I never did mind it if she tries to correct me but she very rarely did, we got along with each other easily and thought the same about the world but with different views. She was an older sister to me, and to the people around her thought so to, she wore thick framed glass that gave a pop to her brown eyes, like a bug. She looked  well for a woman her age, her waist was wide due to her kids and not that much wrinkles under her eyes, will to be honest no one would notice for those big black frames of hers.

Bianca had a way that is like she was a small gravity field that pulled people around her that she wanted to be around, and kept everyone in it close to her even if they broke her orbit. I got done with my chore, saw a few of my students getting in or already working. I watched the even flow of people coming as I left, a person would leave and another would come in, that is a hospital. But now, not that much stay too long to need a room for more than a couple of days. The day wasn’t too hot or cold it was evenly mild by time I got home it was 12:oo pm.

I got to my floor with Tess waiting by the door in a less dressed up fashion, black pants, a long red button shirt over another shirt that was white with a bark brown jacket that turned to fur at the ends of the sleeves and at the neck, not much but I liked it on her with no slick design to make it more than it was. She had one of those bags from grocery stores that don’t sell the plastic begs anymore, branded on it a logo of the store. Her back was at me and didn’t show any sign of her face, but who would be at my door. “Hello miss is there anything I can do to help you”, me “yes I’m waiting for a nice man who looks most handsomely and seem to think his too old to be dating, but isn’t too old for me”, Tess. “Hello Tess”, me “o that’s you I didn’t know, can I come in”, Tess playing and knowing well it was me.

“What’s in the bags is it lunch or dinner that needs all day to cook”, me. “Yes its lunch but small and yes its dinner a large one at that, moley”. “Moley, alright two meals to cook and eat, awhile for me to eat good meals with a woman so kind and beautiful”, we talked of short things that happened growing up, like the other day she and I cut the foods for the moley and made the food for lunch but she vanished out the kitchen. I pulled the largest pot I hold in my kitchen to cook and really didn’t need a bigger one when it was only us eating. “Your album, there’s nice pictures in here, what is this Dr. Gordon and Mrs. Gomez in Hawaii with you”, Tess.

“Yah that is and that’s me, they were at a time my most closet’s friends now on the other hand. We would meet now and again for the family holidays, birthdays, kid’s birthdays, parties that sort of thing. Matter of fact Bianca, Mrs. Gomez is having hers husbands birthday party next week”, me. “Hmm is that an invitation”, Tess, “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t want to ask”. “Yes I would”, she asked questions about who was there in the photos and I answered, when she got to her, my wife.

“Whose this in the pink and yellow dress with you eating; looks like you’re in a race with her, she’s really pretty”, Tess. “That’s my wife, she’s dead”, me, “o I’m sorry to”, “no its ok I know you didn’t know about her”. It got quit for a while as I finished throwing the vegetables in the pot to boil and making our sandwiches. “I didn’t know what to put so here”, “its ok I eat anything pretty much”, we ate on the couch and she was still finishing my album as we seat. “O this house is beautiful is it yours and your wife’s, it’s big”, “yah its mine it’s near the edge of the city close to where Bianca lives a nice neighborhood and real quite”.

“Why don’t you live in it, sold it”, Tess, “no I still have it, it’s my home when I had a wife to live with”. Tess froze to have offending me by asking, “I’m sorry I just wondered”, Tess. “It’s alright it won’t hurt to talk of that place or of my departed wife, I do miss her, who wouldn’t miss someone they love when their dead”. “Crazy people who forgotten that’s all, you live here because it’s closer”? “No that’s not true I can’t bear the thought of living there without the love I had”. 

“Would you move back when you want to”, Tess, “yes I would, all thou it’ll be in my long age of white hairs and frailness, to die some place where happy memories are stored”. Another awkward moment in seconds, it was in the room like an elephant standing out pulling all thoughts and eyes at it. Looking more at my pictures she flips past my wife and me in saved time capsules. The phone rings in the kitchen by the cooking pot of foods, “hello Mr. Morales this is Memorial hospital”, “Yes Mr. Bennet has come in and there is a problem with his pace make”, “is he there”, “yes he is”. “I’m on my way, please do what is needed but try to hold on until I could get there, and ready him for surgery”. 

“Who was it”? “It was work something is wrong with my patients pacemaker, Mr. Bennet’s waiting, I’m sorry but I have to leave, I’ll be back”, “I understand go”. I grabbed my over coat and left giving Tess a sliding kiss at her cheek as I rushed on to the train to save Mr.Bennet if I could. I waited with terror wanting time to run faster, I had time for a moment on my wrist. But now things change, time was lost between the hands that moved rhythmically at my wrist.

I was at times mercy, if try to go against him I would lose more than I fear. The train came pushing winds up out the space of the bar rails that whooshed up the scrapes of paper lift behind and the coats of people and loose clothes, with my anger boiling I madly hated everything, mostly at Mr. Bennet. I hated him for being sick; I hated him for being at the hospital. My anger went at those young and stupid doctors, in my head I yelled at every student I had taught and now had, each one didn’t deserved the lab coats of a doctor. I sat in my seat hearing kids speaking on phones, I hear smaller kids crying, and adults doing nothing for it.

My anger went at them in my shouting mind, “you children believe in what you believe thinking life is so bright now and how can it change now. More and more you learn things older than your bones, if war comes you wouldn’t be ready to fight it or be in it. You’ve read  about protests in books and what they did, but I ask what are you going to do, follow all those around in a cheer of yells to stop bloodshed and stop death not it tracks but before stepping foot on battles in cities of innocence. Do you know about the start of this new war, the reasons for it and against, or would you just learn about it by ear on TV’s and phones licked to the web of information that you screamer when bored.  I hate you children, you think you’ve learn what’s need, oh how your wrong.

Learning what’s needed and wanted to help, I carry wisdom that holds me when earthquakes rattle the earth and smash down houses to meet the concrete. I hate all these children who become high leveled people at desks in buildings higher than an old oak tree, that near tall as a mountain. When laws are forgotten and ignored, I’ll be most wanted, for when order is removed by use and breeds mayhem I’ll be there to patch up the holes in wounded people dying. I hate you now but I know the future will be yours, and I just hope you’ll wise up to look after it bitter than me also in your moment, I hope there is a few old men alive with you, just in case. Now I sound like an old man like Mr. Bennet which clams me by reminding me of why I’m here rushing. 

“Ding”, I saw it my stop, I unbuckled gazing at my watch as I speed down the stairs of the plat form, 15 minutes past but felt like 3. Time speed up in my rant; of the youth seating on the train, I hope 15 minutes isn’t the only thing that changed, I hope Mr. Bennet didn’t die. I go through my steps made repeatedly by habits walking to work and home, now in a more effort to get to work, my heart racing to a rate higher than my old body was felling for. At the front desk I yell to the nurse seating, “is Mr. Bennet alright”, the nurse waits for a response clicking the keys of the computer to tell me what’s happened, “yes he is, and is ready for surgery Dr. Morales”. From the side view of my eye I see a woman moving in my direction, out from a seating crowd of people closely bundled together.

“Are you my husband’s doctor, Mr. Morales who put his pacemaker in”, standing like she was I knew her already I’ve seen her by her husband when welcomed out of surgery. Her clothes were humbly thrown on and some were old. Colors on the black and white checker scoff now a gray fade at her neck, the wool gloves of red aged to a pink hanging out from a will seen jacket, and at last her face worn by time for life raising and living with a family. The family behind her; were rushed here because their shoes are out of place to what they wear, shoes for running and clothes for sleeping. “Yes I am his doctor and surgeon”, I looked to her worried but not showing in my face or voice, “why is this happening, Carl was felling fine his pace maker should’ve made him better and not send him again”.

A crying Mrs. Bennet runs to me closer asking the obverse. “I am not the one who put the pacemaker in, I’m the chef of surgery and his fission. And I don’t know what is wrong with your husband, so I’m going to have to do an exploratory surgery to find the real problem; if it is he pacemaker being placed wrong or something else I’ll correct it”. She worries more and shows it, “surgery again, he just went through one, I can’t think of losing him again”. “Please Mrs. Bennet I know what you mean, I’m scared too but I can’t be afraid when I’m about to work with a man’s heart and life is at my hand.

I’ll be clam and brave to save him, please wait for him to come out, and pray, so god can be on both our sides” I look deep in her eye with my hands at her giving a warmth that frailer wasn’t happening. “Alright”, walking away holding tears from escaping, the family welcomes her to ask question of what I said. I’m too egger to know the truth to walk clam, I truly meant what I said; I was afraid but needed to ignore it. Many times I gave sincerity when I didn’t mean it. I know why I know it, because I see a man whose seen war, seen death like I had.

Bodies lying dead in the moments of when their lives ended, or when a solider picked them up to carry to a camp for their dog tags and be bagged for a trip home for a funeral. Others begging for life when they know they won’t last, stench of foul odors make to the noses of every one. Weak soldiers sleep were the seat, even in the drying blood on the sand, are wars were different but same. His was golf war, mines was war against death on Mexican people who were surviving the weathers of Mother Nature. I wanted him to have happiness.

Every one disserves to be happy even if it’s for a moment, Mr. Bennet had dozens and I want him to have more. My moments of happiness were starting back, pink soap scrubbed deep in my hands after I made the trip to change for surgery. “Alright anesthesia”, anesthesiologists work the gasses flowing into the oxygen mask making Mr. Bennet sleep and won’t feel pain of cutting flesh. Nurses ready to pull up the machines for the surgery, but one in particular I didn’t want, “bring them but not the cutting machines, only scalpels, call all the doctors on call and on duty that worked on him here”. A nurse turns to the wall doing what I said, calling on the phone nailed to the wall for each doctor here; they come in ashamed to have Mr. Bennet here and to have me here working. 

“I’ll show you how to do this without machines. If a computer shows you how to cut, can it teach what happens when what you’re cutting is wrong? The machines can help you work but it shouldn’t do your work for you, these tools that think, will replace the old scalpel but shouldn’t replace your hand”. The nurses pull melt tools with shinned shapes; I push into the chest while another doctor asks for suction to take the blood from my way. The doctors listen and watch me open Mr. Bennet, this war hero deserves to be happy. His family deserves to be happy with him, I think everyone deserves to be, even the villain who asks and seeks redemption, in those comics.

Thinking of other things calms me and helps block all distraction around but there was none to be around so I just looked and worked the. The cardiac electrical system of the heart regulates the frequency of the heart beat setting the heart rate, and it coordinates the contraction of the heart muscle, so that the heart beats. A pacemaker is a sophisticated electronic device that analyzes the electrical system of the heart. When necessary, it sends tiny, precisely-timed electrical signals to the heart, to correct certain abnormalities in its electrical system. Pacemakers consist of two major parts the Generator and the leads, and the battery life of most pacemaker generators is 5 – 8 years which wouldn’t bring Mr.Bennet here.

The generator is essentially a tiny, hermetically sealed computer roughly the size of a 50-cent piece and three times as thick. Along with it is the battery that runs it. The Leads is flexible insulated electrical wire. Most pacemakers today use two leads one placed in the right atrium and the other in the right ventricle. I doubt it being an abnormality of the cardiac electrical system; they are manifested by cardiac arrhythmias. 

Bradycardia is what it’s called for abnormally slow arrhythmias. Pacemakers are designed to correct the Bradycardias. Abnormally slow heart rhythms can cause weakness, lightheadedness, a loss of consciousness, and even death. Mr. Bennet was alive and it must be something else. He wasn’t exposed to Radiation therapy for cancer, since he doesn’t have it. He wouldn’t have his hair and would carry a pale face being sick of the radiation, with a loss of weight but he has well feed.

Shock wave lithotripsy would be a cause but it’s used to break up kidney stones, which can potentially damage pacemakers, but Mr. Bennet doesn’t have them either. Nurse is his chart in here; if not can you find it and search that he might have had kidney stones”. “Yes doctor”, a nurse looked, “he had an appointment a day ago for a Shock Wave Lithotripsy”.  I know it was; the pacemaker is implanted in the abdomen instead of under the collarbone. Even if it was an inch a way the same effect was there, the pacemaker sufferd signs of trauma.

Lead failure would bring late complications; there were signs of wear and tear showing of being traumatized as I held it in my hand. Tests of a lithotripsy would show if a pacemaker was still functioning normally, if someone took it the signs would’ve been seen. But why did it fail now and I knew time was short and but wasn’t short enough, on the lithotripsy it wouldn’t of shown if someone bothered to look. The pacemaker failed when he left the hospital and started giving irritation as he slept when he noticed he made his way here, when he was here it got much worse. He was in the right place during the wrong time of his life, red skin on his sown upped chest, uncontrolled heart rate always there.

I replaced the Pacemaker with another; sit it in the right place. I watched his heart rate easy back when we pulled him off the machines that pulled his blood letting his heart work. “Heart beat now in the 90’ ties and holding there, normal”. I don’t sow him up at the end a nurse does, “listen all of you, it may seem you know all life has learned, well your wrong. The world is still learning and you should to, these nurses sow up after you but know they’ve been here and picked up a few things from me so ask them if afraid of me.

Because right now none of you will stand in this room with me or any other, also right now it’ll be best to ask these nurses what’s what when being a surgeon or a doctor. It’ll most likely that I’ll ignore you or yell at you if asked, so wish for a cold shoulder and not my yell”. My speech drowned the room in tension, drained the room of courage and happiness leaving fear and shame on the youth who stand in lab coats. At my head I feel the cold stare of a person viewing from the square glass holes at the high walls were patients as well as doctors look from in its room, and I know who it is. My arms work the scrubs off; the locker is empty with no others, guessing the fear spread beyond that room.

“You have hell of a nerve to do that”, and there she was in my eyes and not in a room looking down as I shouted fear in those doctors, Mrs. Gomez. “It needed to be said, we teach the new kids to be bitter than us, and learn what we know, even from their own mistakes they need to learn”. “We’ve known each other for a long time now, so back that I know you when you were married with Angelina, and sorry to bring it up. But what you did shock them and what if they quit medicine or is that what you want, why?” “If they want to second guess themselves alright then, but if they want to be here in a hospital, then they deserve a second chance.

And still they need to learn what I learned; nurses are there to help like you did for me. It’s their stupidity not to ask or except it. I said what I said to do that, make them rethink medicine and see if they have it, to push themselves against my words and prove me wrong, everyone needs a push even if it hurts”.  Me and Bianca didn’t mind me dressing in front of each other, when in a hospital you lose a sense of shivery. “At least you told me the reason why your being a jerk all of a sudden”, Bianca seemed to look at me if my mind has broken out my skull.

“Where did you come from”, Bianca, she was the type to get over things quickly when she gets the answers she asks for. She asked where I was because I was too well dressed to be hanging out if so I would be in a plan shirt and pants. “I came from my apartment I was on a date”, I could tell this answer made her happy inside. “Alright than, see you on my birthday”, Bianca, “I will”, me. I left the lockers to my apartment; each step I made towards the train platform slowed my blood pressure.

The wait for a train was short, due to the arrival of a stopping train on its route. I made the last step of the melt stairs descending from the high platform were each person coming to and from the streets. I wonder if Tess is still there cooking or is she done and fell asleep. Lights of lighter blue from UV light bulbs brighten in the elevator window so whose inside can clearly view the outside as they were lifted to their floor. A couple was in the elevator with me, unaware to the closing sun at their back. 

It seem love was important for them, they were close but not working each other with hot or mild kisses, it was a shared hugged that time didn’t matter in its held bodies. Well if their world is more important than the boiling sun that’s fading out of sight; and the coming of a bright moon fighting on the plane of the darkening sky in each moving hand of a clock. A third party cuts in with the two fighting for the center above that is the telling of time with colors of day and night. I stand at the window look at both scenes with each eye; they got off, still close. By their whispering mouths I thought they might be in their late twenties and by their clothes they were on a date. 

Pushing doors open to me, I walk its threshold, down a hall to a brown door marked 146#, undid the locks to meet the scent of cooked foods and a face I loved. “Hello”, I looked and found my Tess sleeping on the couch, the large television still running, the food done and read, waiting in the microwave. The dish was good and nice, not hot to the tongue, farther I move from Tess to the bathroom. When I was done in the bathroom she was seating up, I guess the flushing toilet woke her. “Hello”, me, “hi”, we looked and talked of what I said to the students of mine and she got what I meant.

“So did you eat the food in the microwave”, Tess. “Yes I did and was it great, how long was I gone”, me, “not long but I guess it was because I fall asleep”. We laughed for that instant’s; the photo album was still out and on my wife, I lifted the books to my room, and Tess turning the TV off. I was statue in the room at the shelves, at the albums, at my dead life captured in framed picture books. Tess broke the hold of the books had like medusa’s gazing eye pointed on me, “what’s wrong with you”. “I haven’t held these books since I moved here; it’s odd not to cry about them”. 

“I’m too old to play games with you, and not young enough to keep up with this world. I truly love you because I am without love and I find it merely by being with you. I still hold a house where I lived with my wife who was alive, and helped me find love when I barely knew what it was. Her death took that love, our home became hollow in its absentness, each day I was sad and floated with such loneliness that I became an aching soul. One day I planned to box away my wife’s belongings, but couldn’t rid myself from the boxes holding her.

I guess knowing that they were by me; she would be there in some sense. So I moved them to the attic so I can look to the ceiling and have her above me and under the roof where I lived like watching eyes of hers. Even with that reminder, the house was too big for me, I moved into the city where I can live with no constant reminder of her at each room at each corner in my house. But I still remember her at night when random thoughts and past memories stir up behind my eye lids rested in sleep. I try so to forget, until I started hoping and waiting to fall back in love”.

“You came to me in a braking dawn that turns to night; hidden clouds block the stars from my sight that would one day chase away from me when wrinkles push up on my skin. Spots of drown form on my back as it creeks and crakes as I walk as an elderly man of 50 or 60. That day moves far now when I move back to today, my bundling love was too small and my mind to weak to choose for my heart because it doesn’t understand this task of seeking love. Guided by unwanted pain I kissed you, and don’t worry about that I might of chosen you just out of convenience. Please know that wasn’t true, I kissed you to see if you’ll kiss me back because I didn’t think of anything else but a kiss.

You helped me reclaim love, my heart will always carry my wife, and now it’ll carry you”. Tess holds me from me back, arms at my chest and her nose to my neck, no more words I tell to her or words pass her lips. Nothing happened to us just this pause, when it was made and end of we lift the souls of or shoes to the bed and slept. No passionate hugs, no kisses of eyes, just sleeping bodies close to each other. And the day ends like each other, night is at the town and day is hours away, sleeping in hands cutting the space in between nothing more than sleep.