Archive for the ‘displacement’ Category

The Emergency

August 5, 2017

The Emergency

The siren made a loud noise through the city streets. The siren yelled hard; it was almost midnight and somebody inside the ambulance was very sick. A paramedic with a computer on his lap took down all of the man’s information. He asked questions; the woman holding on to the patient’s stretcher helped with the answers. He cannot wait any longer, she told the paramedic. Just look at the way his face is. I had to call 911 and ask help for him. I had to. It was a short trip to the hospital. The ambulance stopped by the emergency dept. After the patient was wheeled in, there were more questions. When these were answered, the woman stayed with her head resting by her friend’s feet all night. In the morning, the man is discharged. She goes with him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Invisible

July 1, 2017

Invisible

I sit. I sit long and hard. Time goes by almost without my knowledge. I get caught up in what I am doing and I forget. I forget who and what I am. Hours go by. I am sitting. I still do what I love best. Being invisible this time is fine. It is totally fine.

 

 

 

Around

June 29, 2017

Around

You are not around, but you are in spite of my wishes. I don’t want to be where you were, where we used to be. It hurts. It hurts too much. I am reminded of other losses, other emotional pains. I cry. The tears just come down my face. I am bewildered. I am surprised. How could this have happened? I never wished for it. I never wanted to feel deeply again

End of Story

June 10, 2017

I am heartbroken. I didn’t think it would end this way. You again said horrible things to me and I couldn’t put up with it anymore. I told someone in power, someone who could actually help me. They must have gone and talked to you.I hope they did and that now you have calmed down. I loved you. When you called me all those names I got a horrible pain in my gut. How could you do this to me? I thought. I don’t know. I want to be inside your brain, inside your heart, but that’s impossible. I regret that our relationship did not work. I cared about you, plain and simple. My pain will take a long time to go away. May you get the help you need. May you be able to go home someday soon. Goodbye.

Death Watch

June 6, 2017

Death Watch

Dying. That’s the word. The dreaded word I don’t want to think about. It’s you. You are dying. Your head. You keep your head down all the time now. You don’t want to look up. It’s not necessary anymore. Nothing interests you, not even the two items you used to live for. You are like a light that will no longer function. I watch you go and I want to stop you. I can’t. I know it’s useless. The pain inside you is too great. It’s taking over your being.

 

 

Stunned

May 28, 2017

She had to sit down. There was no other way. The words he had said to her took her by surprise. It was one insult on top of other insults. The accusations were unfair because they were untrue. She had no idea why he was in such a bad mood. When she called 911 almost  at midnight, she did it to save his life. The man had been complaining about feeling weak and tired. She wanted noting bad to happen to him. She had stayed by his side until the mid morning hours. Then she had to go. The following day, when she went to see him in his hospital room, she wished for a smile, a semi-warm greeting, something to show that he cared in some way. As he talked about her not bringing him this and that (some of the things he had asked for) the tone of his voice got angrier and angrier. She wanted to leave the room, yet she felt sorry for him. The doctors must have given him bad news. Even so, that did not excuse his behavior. What had she done wrong? She didn’t know; she didn’t understand. Now she was tired. The pain in her gut was hard and harsh, as hard and harsh as his words had been.

Senile

May 20, 2017

Senile

You call me senile? What gives you the right to do that? And you call me stupid? When have I ever called you disabled or whatever else? The woman remembered the scene of their fight earlier that morning. She stood on the platform of the subway station. A panhandler near her was playing a song. It was On the Street where You Live from My Fair Lady. The lyrics, something about the lyrics, made her cry. Without really knowing why, the part that goes: I have often walked down this street before, broke her. She leaned her head against a pole. There were other people waiting for the M train. She had to hide her face from them, even if they didn’t care. The tears kept coming down. What have I done? I tried to be nice. She thought. I can’t live like this. This is too painful. She fumbled for a napkin, a tissue, anything to dry her face with. She finally used her hands up and down her cheeks.

 

 

Revisited

May 11, 2017

She stared at him. People were watching from the still open doors of the shuttle train. They were looking at him. He always commanded center stage. A sidebar, that’s what I am, she thought, just a simple ordinary sidebar, a cipher.. She swallowed hard before she spoke: What are you saying? What am I supposed to have done, according to you. He looked at her. You manipulated everything. You did it on purpose. You say you did it selflessly, but it is not true. It is not true at all. All you women are alike. You are greedy. She could not believe it. Was this the person she had risked so much to shelter? What had happened to change him? Something must have happened, but there was no way of finding out. In the meantime, she was the one who needed to take action, to do something positive for herself. Otherwise, after he left her life, there’d be another and another and another man to treat her like garbage. She was nowhere near garbage. He knew it. She had proved that over and over again. The undocumented immigrant from Hell had treated her in a bad way. The last thing she wanted was a repeat performance of that nightmare.

 

 

 

Down Spread

May 4, 2017

Down Spread

All spread out—someone was by the curb. He lay with his head on a black bag.  There were no shoes on his feet, though sneakers and a grey jacket were nearby. People walked by him; some looked and shook their hands while others didn’t see him. Someone stopped by the Starbucks cup in front of the person and put a dollar bill. Another person covered her face with the hoodie. She stood against the restaurant wall by the man and cried. It shouldn’t happen. These things shouldn’t be happening, she said in a low voice.

 

 

The Words

May 2, 2017

The Words!

Get out of here! Just get out of here! This is my house. This is where I live! You insulted me more than enough! How dare you criticize and say only negative words to me and about me? She wanted and did say all these things to the man in front of her. They had lived together for a short time. She thought he was nice, with a vulnerable side to him. Now he kept coming at her with attack after attack. Try as she would, she didn’t understand it. What had happened? What had she done? Sometimes she had given up part of her day and schedule for him. No, it hadn’t been worth it. He had turned on her—totally turned. There was no safety—no safety as far as her life was concerned. It was all dark.