the project has moved



The Seventh Post


Cathreen seems to have lost interest in the project. Her hand is healing. She didn't take medicine all day yesterday. Instead she stayed in bed and surfed the internet.

She came out once to watch tv and dug her nails into my skin without noticing. I yelled, frightening her out of her reverie. She went back into the bedroom. Later we both apologized and went to sleep. That was the weekend.


When I slammed the door on her I was trying to storm out of the room and make a scene. I didn't know her hand was there. This doesn't make it any better.

I am shipwrecked on an island of guilt.


I should have mentioned this earlier. Her mother asked her to go to the family fortune teller and retrieve their fortunes for 2009. My luck was supposed to get better in December.

This is the same fortune teller who thought I had died when I was two, when Cathreen and her mom went to see him about us getting married. He said my life in Korea had ended then. I was adopted when I was two. He said we're a good match if I'm still alive.

Or maybe this was another fortune teller--I can't remember.


I think "Shipwrecked" would be a good title. We're wandering around picking up the fragments of what was broken when her hand almost was. We'll build a shelter here against wild animals and cannibals.

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