Metanoia

Click, Click, Click

          Click, click, click

Spider Solitaire has eaten into my brain.
I wake up wondering if I redo enough moves
will I be able to win every time?

My son hasn’t called in forever. I called him
to ask him to Sunday dinner. He said he was
going out with friends. I called him to tell him
his mail was piling up. He said he’d try to stop
by later. Apparently he only lives now, because
later hasn’t come.

Click, click, click.

I particularly like it when the deck is dealt out,
that thut-thut-thut-thut-thut-thut-thut sound. My
kids always ask me to turn the sound off. I always
turn it up loud when I sit down to play.
The louder, the better.

What was that? I better turn it down. I thought
I heard the phone ring. Or maybe it was the
doorbell. Never mind. Let’s see, ace on two,
jack on queen. I wonder if I’ll ever progress
to the most difficult level. Seems like I’ve been
stuck at the second level forever.

Click, click, click.

I couldn’t stay in church Sunday. I walked in and
over scurried one of the members. “Haven’t seen
you in a month.” I choked out something, don’t
remember what. The singing started. I love to
sing. I stood at attention. My mouth wouldn’t
open. I left in the middle of the second song.
I needed to get home and work on my game.

I left my game in the middle of a round. It’s too hard
to pick up where I left off. I think I’ll start the game
over. There. Fresh cards. Now I can try to win. I think
I can do it this time. Two on three. Three on four. Yes.
Four on five, six, seven.

Click, click, click.