Member-only story
Mind Games
Everything Is Beautiful Here and Nothing Hurts
How I’m spending my days inside my house
Sit down, please. Pay attention to the screen while I work the projector. Do you like old movies? Here’s one about a girl who wears long cotton dresses that resemble nightgowns but aren’t nightgowns but could easily be nightgowns if your sleep attire channeled the Dynasty era. Seafoam green, mint, clay, salt, and the color of uncertain skies — I wear shades that have been bleached down, bone dry. The steady, low-paying work of pigment vampires. There she moves, something like scenery. Do you see me? The woman I can hold onto. Do you see her? The woman it hurts to touch.
Sometimes, I wonder if we are one and the same.
The days are excitable. Crows hover. Cranes ferret out yellowed teeth from the grass beneath my feet. Is this green real? Trees, deciduous? Or am I on set preparing for costume changes? The world as we know it has become a window display. Do I mention the hummingbirds in witness protection? Twilight Zone episodes on repeat?
It’s brutal out there, kids. Massacres in the street. We’re in dire straights — the situation, not the ’80s rock band. We are not what was intended.
