In a very Henry Jamesian Goes to the Upper West Side moment of horse-drawn carriages clomping down my beautiful UWS street of majestic brownstones heading towards Central Park and children bundled and holding the hands of their nurses and businessmen in top coats and smoking pipes, the camera does some sort of whip pan and then a fish eye into my jewelbox lovely apartment where you see me
Holding my head in pain.
Going from the chills to the sweats and back
Holding my eye sockets which are pools of painful fatigue
Trying to sleep.
Trying to walk.
Lying there wondering when this headache would go away.
Avoiding light like depressed heroine in the 70s or a drunk heroine in the 50s.
No comments:
Post a Comment