Here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to go home and clear several paths in my bedroom. One, from my bedroom door to my desk. Two, from my desk to the bathroom. Three, from the bathroom to the closet. Four, from the closet to my bed.
Then, I’m going to eat an orange. No, a tangerine. I will start to peel it the way my brother does, carefully and with purpose. Then, I’ll get tired and tear it apart, splattering juice everywhere, inhaling the sweet citrus scent, thinking about summertime.
I’ll pop in the CD I just got and turn up the volume. Up, up, up. Way up. I’ll fast-forward to track 4 and I’ll begin to nod my head but I won’t even notice, at first. I’ll tap my foot, too. To the beat.
I’ll take a shot of cough syrup, climb into bed and read. I’ll ignore the phone if it rings. I’ll fall asleep with the light on and the book pressed up against my chest.