While Cathreen is away in Korea, I am working on getting published a series of tiny stories about an island of epidemics. The epidemics are: memory loss, hunger, expanding hearts, unrequited love, obsession, magic, charisma . . .
Boise claws my hands when I try to clip his nails and I think about what is plaguing him. He meows. Over and over. The first night, he slept by the door, waiting for Cathreen to come back.
I am trying to keep busy.
I went to the dentist on Friday. I worked for a couple hours with a half-numb mouth. It took a while to really get a hold of Cathreen. Today was the first day we had any time to talk. Before she hung up, she said she'd changed her mind about having a baby. Our nephew threw her hairbrush at her and she called for his mother. She said she was spending her time eating and watching tv. We were talking on the computer. I said all this was what she could be doing here, at home. I said everything she did there she could do here, at home, though that isn't true.
Before she left, she ordered some pots and pans. They came hours after I'd taken her to the airport. I cook pasta and rice and leftovers and nothing burns anymore.
I run out of Boise's food. I run out of trash bags. I spend hours online. I leave the computer on when I sleep. I send out the island of epidemics stories.
In the time between her flight and now, five have been accepted. I feel full of hope. But then I remember why I feel empty or full.
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