Member-only story
Absence
A Heart Gone Yonder
I was frantic. I felt dizzy, disoriented. I stumbled around the living room trying to judge how concerned I should be with my state of mind and body.
I approached the turntable thinking I’d put on a record but my equilibrium was way off.
I’m not a hypochondriac — I don’t imagine illnesses. But I am an alarmist — and as soon as I have any symptoms I think the worst.
Was this some hybrid form of COVID that was twisting my universe around?
Blood sugar? A brain tumor? Some OCD cocktail?
I was going through the list of possibilities like a box of chocolate assortments. Each bonbon not all that different inside—but in this case each surprise dire center was covered by a fondant of mortality.
My front door was open and the next door neighbor stepped inside the threshold. We mostly only said hello to each other in the hallway — or to grumble some complaints about the callous landlord.
Are you okay? — he inquired as he had noticed my stumbling around.
Yeah, yeah, I think so—I replied.
I went over and supported myself on the windowsill, with a glance out at the back yard where a light snow was falling.
