4 tomatoes

I woke to this song this morning. I probably haven't heard this song in years and years. Then, suddenly, there it is, a 5 yr old boy in pain screaming out "she ran calling wildfire" in my dream and I froze, how did this boy know this song and who taught him to sing it at the top of his lungs when he was in pain?

Crazy what lies in the archives of our minds.



The ice clinked, shifting positions in the tall glass as it melted, the only noise in the room as she stood staring at the open suitcase lying on the unmade bed. Four tomatoes, ripe, just picked from their overgrown garden, still warm from the sun, lying at the bottom of a brown paper bag that sat still next to the empty suitcase.

"I wish I could die, it would be easier than this" she thought, not speaking aloud, but over and over again in her head, "it would be easier, easier, than this". She stared at each side of the suitcase, still empty, as she had done at least ten times before today. And, then she lifted each arm to place each collected piece of herself into the empty red compartments lying open on their bed, truely wanting the task over and done with, she moved like a whirlwind, choosing only those things she knew she would wear. The pile of sweatshirts, those jeans that used to fit and those that still do, but the t-shirts she had collected from past experiences they had together she kept in the pile on the floor, each one a memory of their moments, each one a lie. She didn't stop to search for anything special, she couldn't, she would never be able to start again. Each side filled, each one with only what she would need right now, she carefully closed the compartments, tying them down, latching the sides closed.

She was finished with the hardest part and she had started the wheel turning toward a loss she would never forgive herself for and she began to cry. "How could I do this? What a cruel woman I must be", but after a few tears wiped away with the back of her overcoat sleeve, she felt nothing. Nothing at all, she was numb and would have to stay that way to endure. And, she placed the red leather suitcase onto the floor, leaving the brown paper bag behind on their unmade bed with the four tomatoes still warm from the sun. The last remnants of them.

Copyright cmy 9/8/2007