by caccy46

She liked it better when schedules ran her life because she allowed them to determine her mood. The school schedule is now gone, so August has lost it's excitement and September is no longer frenetic. Her work is gone and with it the joy of every weekend and the sadness of Sundays. Her children are grown and so is their neediness; stolen from her are the worries that she used to camouflage her own feelings. It's just the two of them now - she and her husband, with no schedules left, nothing that must be done, nothing but the exposure of who they really are with no lotion to block the rays. They busy themselves with small rituals, crossword puzzles and books; but she feels the burn, and thinks if she can't soon get out of the sun, she will die from heat prostration.


caccy46, whose full catalog is here, is 60 years old, a mother of two, and has been married for 32 years.


Leatherdykeuk said...

Well observed. Many die from exactly that.

Joe said...

Wonderfully written, achingly beautiful in its composition. Expressed with a haunting narrative and replete with resonating sadness. We all become Icarus when it comes to love and usually find out too late that we have flown too fast and too high only to be burned by the sun. An excellent six!

Madam Z said...

Hey kids, see what you have to look forward to?

austere said...

You've made me huddle in, and gather snoopy-like, my own need for structure. Lovely.

mgirl said...

Excellent six!