Part 3 Out the Door
I stayed put for a few moments after Claudia ran out on me. I shifted my gaze back to the ball. Encapsulated clouds swirled and became dark and threatening. The rock rolled off its stand to the floor, across the room, down the hallway to my bedroom. I followed and stuffed it into the green canvas
backpack on my bed.
What was here to keep me?—my books?—records? Things; only things. The people I wanted to love didn’t care; didn’t feel—innards as hard as rocks. The curio shelf held scattered rough mined stones—amethyst, quartz, shale—I swept them into a side pocket.
The inanimate object mirrored my need to leave; to roll down a hallway or maybe a highway. It wouldn’t be long now.
Part 3 Out the Door
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