It is nine in the night. The sun has gone to sleep but it is still hot, humid, air as thick as a summer night should be. Frizzled hair sticks to the back of my neck. I wish I could see the stars as I drag my feet to turn my keys in for the night. Eyes bloodshot; reminds me it has been a long day. I approach my car, covered in pigeon poop. Upset at myself for not washing her I take a mental note- must wash car. I fall in love with the feel of a dark road, beaming street lights, and lit up shops as I drive with my favorite playlist caressing my speakers. My playlist is a luxury when night falls. I am driving 60 mph, yet I weave in and out of those driving 40,50,70 mph. Flustered to get home I hold my breath and think of my curse jar back at home. I hold in my inner sailor and finally pull into my driveway. My fridge handles are cold as I glare upon my options: A cold tuna sand-which because my toaster is broken, or leftover lasagna with the crusty edges. Mental note-must buy new toaster. I cut my tuna sand-which in half and glare over the dirty dishes with hardened food resting in every nook and cranny. This makes me cringe in annoyance knowing I'll have to do them anyway. Losing my appetite I place the sand-which down, it is time for a shower. Long, hot, rhythmic water waves awaken my muscles, my hair falls wet down my back. The frizz of a hot summer night is now gone. As I brush and grunt at my split ends I think of what book to read before bed. Instead I think that for a reader like myself I actually don't have a large book collection. This bothers me. I tiptoe off to bed, goosebumps running up my legs from the cold floor. I tuck myself into bed dampening my pillow. The AC is too cold but I am far too tired to get up now. I get up anyway. Passing my entry table I pick up my unopened mail, slide the AC pin to 70 degrees. My index finger evades the envelope revealing what is inside. An unexpected medical bill. Now I wish I would have stayed in bed to cope with the cold instead of this questioning bill. I am back in bed, eyelids heavy, breath steady, mind racing like a hamster on the wheel. I just want to sleep. But stuck somewhere in between comfort and the worry of
a medical bill, a wave of gratitude comes over me. One deep breath later I am thinking, not of my own perturbed ordeals but if the grass is truly greener on the other side. When night falls, I think, I wonder if someone halfway across the world is trying to sleep just like me tonight. Are they my age? Are they in a warm bed like my own tonight sharing similar worries to my own? I am safe tonight, are they? I think to myself that out there somewhere is a father hiding on the battlefield that has now become the city of Aleppo holding his son tightly through the night in worry of a rebel war. My half cut cold tuna sand-which is sitting in the trash when I think of a mother in the middle of east Africa putting her hungry child to bed hoping shell get a hold of more when the sun comes up. My pigeon poop filled car sits in my driveway while teenage girls run on bare feet through the city of Venezuela fleeing the grip of a riot police defending her country. Is there a boy returning to school after 2 years of constant war in the streets of Bangui Africa hugging his only book, while I complain I don’t have enough books of my own to read tonight? I feel my split ends dry against my pillow when I know somewhere is a girl not concerned of her split ends, but concerned for her younger sisters in danger of rape in South Sudan Africa where soldiers are slaughtering innocent women and children. I lay in my warm bed. With a fridge full of options. A shower waiting to fall on my back. A shelf filled with books and a medical bill I am now thankful to have. I cannot sleep. So I write-It is nine in the night. The sun has gone to sleep but it is still hot, humid, air as thick as a summer night should be.
Epilogue
I am lucky…
I am lucky to have a job that does not require hours of work under the son & rewards very little.
I am lucky to have a car covered in pigeon poop that takes me as far as I want to go regardless of the fact.
I am lucky to be $500 short of a medical bill that stated all the health exams I took to find out I am healthy and well.
I am lucky to weave in and out of traffic in a city where others do the same on their way to eat dinner or make love in a warm familiar bed.
I am lucky to have split ends I can do something about in a country with salons on every corner I turn.
I am lucky to have the little books I have, knowing I can visit any bookstore I want today or any day of the year.
I am lucky to argue about which restaurant to eat at tonight with friends.
I am lucky to hear crappy radio stations in the car.
I am lucky to have utensils covered in hardening food in every nook and cranny.
I am lucky to be stuck in a long line at the grocery store with a cart full of food for me and my family.
I am lucky to be able to complain about too much homework from my college professor because I am getting an education.
I am lucky to have clean running water I can adjust to any temperature I want when I want.
I am lucky to know I am one of the few in today’s world who realizes the grass is not always greener on the other side.
xxx. Aileen
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