Some Things

It has been months since my arrival and I think I finally feel settled, here in Chicago. I remember the move from Galesburg, in the passenger seat of the cargo van, everything packed in boxes behind me. My cat, Taffy, wouldn't stop whining. I held her, hoping it would calm her. Her face was horrifying. Her eyes were actually bulging, she was panting. As if she couldn't believe the road was moving below us. In a way, I almost felt the same way; my biggest fear, since moving to Galesburg, was being stuck in Galesburg. Last year, a professor asked me, after reviewing a story, if I was happy. I didn't know how to answer, and this professor seems to have trouble separating fact from fiction. It was spring. He said that Galesburg was a great place to nurture melancholy; he said he was worried. I was stoned when I left Galesburg, and the sun was beginning to set. On the road, insects crashed against the windshield, their remains spread across by the windshield whippers.

Now I have a routine, one which I appreciate after a month of unemployment. My office is on the fifth floor of a building you wouldn't think twice to look at, across the street from St. Peter's church. I watch the pigeons gather on top of the crucified Christ, and the window-washers suspended above many stories, working diligently, without fear.

I'm in love with my neighborhood, Andersonville. It's a place where children can play on the street. In the summer, they set up lemonade stands, and draw on the sidewalk with chalk--the summer rains smearing the colors. I stay mostly indoors. When I hear the gates crash outside, I run to the picture window, hoping to catch a look at one of my neighbors. This has become the most physically demanding activity I do at home. Mostly, I nap on the couch with the television on. The cold has arrived and this only encourages my napping. It has been very easy not to write. However, I have been reading. I recently finished Bad Behavior* by Mary Gaitskill, The Collected Stories of Amy Hempel**, Tunneling to the Center of the Earth* by Kevin Wilson, The Feast of the Goat** by Mario Vargas Llosa, and The Safety of Objects, by A.M. Homes.
(*=recommended; **=strongly recommended)

I recently started a story this week. It's very exciting, for me, at least. So far, I have four sentences. Let's hope I make it to ten by the end of the week.