by L. A. Craig
We lie in Corpse to empty the detritus from our minds as our Yogi reads philosophy from The Little Book of Peace
Just let everything float by like a cloud.
My clouds all have Jovi’s face, smiling like some ethereal cherub in a wispy cage. The little sod that he is.
Everybody said he’d be eager to fit in, want to be like all his friends once he started school. Unless his friends all moon the class at story time, he seems to be missing the point. The rot set in with his name if you ask me, his dad’s idea, thought it would be original to call him after a rock band.
Clean out your closet and the rest will filter down. A smaller closet means fewer possessions, so you have no use for that larger house and the need to earn more money disappears. If you work less you will have more time to enjoy life and be with those you love.
Would more time with Jovi make him less of an exhibitionist? If I wasn’t here, supine and indulgent, would my son be the perfect child?
Let it all go, feel the weight of your body against the floor.
Weight. Maybe that’s it. Come down heavy on him, force him to understand. Say his friends will think he’s a weirdo if he flashes his backside. Is that too harsh? If it’s for their own safety, can you ever be too harsh? He could do it anywhere, in front of anyone. I don’t even want to think about that.
You should be feeling relaxed now, calm, at one with yourself. Make the most of this ‘me’ time, savour this peaceful moment, with it comes refreshment, new energy, a more invigorated you.
My fingernails force tiny crescent-shaped imprints into the palm of each hand.
L.A.Craig writes in Newcastle and is freakishly tall for her age.