Beneath the Waves

I was driving her one last time from school.  It was the very least I could do.  We’d let her down, you see, we’d let her down so very much.  But instead of being angry she said: I feel numb, as if I’m not feeling anything anymore, as if I’m not totally here.  It’s like I’m sitting under the water and I can look up and I see the waves.  But I can’t feel them.  Do you know what I mean?  She laughed her nervous laugh, the laugh she used to punctuate all of our chats.

I nodded.  I do, was all I managed to say in response to her eloquence.  We talked of other things and I held it together at the time, only crying as I drove away, punching the steering wheel in protest at the injustices of the universe and my own pathetic inability to address them.


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