ephlis01 SUMMER/FALL 2001 (THE LOST ISSUE): Part 14
Page 15: Saturday (Teletype font):
SATURDAY
A rainy Saturday afternoon is usually an excuse to curl inside myself. The lights were on in the apartment long before they should have been and I ate food in a way I never would during the week. A large bowl of cold mashed potatoes, leftover sesame chicken mercilessly stabbed at with a single chopstick, thin slices of pink roast beef straight from the cellophane wrapper to my mouth. Dishes are unnecessary on rainy Saturday afternoons.
I’d have turned on the television and allowed my mind to take a leave of absence but the electricity failed at 1:00 P.M. and showed no signs of returning anytime soon. I read. I paced. I stared at the flame flickering from the safety candle I placed in a Lake Tahoe souvenir shot glass on the kitchen table. I ate more roast beef.
It seemed silly, sitting there waiting for the power to come back on. And when it did, what did I have to look forward to? The evening news? Stock car racing on ESPN2?
So I left. I left in my pajama bottoms and t-shirt and walked into the rain. I walked slouched and timid at first, then completely embracing the idea, I picked up speed. More determined than hurried, steps fluid and easy, I paused only to press my face against the Plexiglas shelter of the bus stop. My face distorted, nose upturned, lips twisted, a spectacle for those in the shelter who, judging from their reactions, held a different opinion about how the afternoon had turned out. The bus pulled up and those beneath the shelter dashed to its steps. Each person taking their seat couldn’t help but look out the window at the man in his pajamas, making mad faces, smiling in the rain.
