She Sat On The Bed (Feb 2006)

She sat on the bed and felt heavy. Laden with fear and uncertainty, not knowing herself anymore. Sun was exploding around the side of the curtain bleaching the carpet. A woodlice caught her eye. It was struggling against the pile of the carpet. Small fibres must seem like small branches. She thought about being kind and putting it back outside but wondered perhaps whether it preferred to lodge in the warm?

Do woodlice actually eat wood she thought. A stupid but nonetheless valid question. It struggled on its way bumbling across the floor to somewhere else in the house. Perhaps if it ate enough wood the house would just eventually implode and fold in on itself bit by bit culminating in a large, dusty collapse? She hoped so. But no such chance. She had to carry on and face the music. Why was it so hard? How could it be so hard? She took her son to see a children's animated film. In front of them sat a gianormous, childless couple. The man didn't laugh but the woman laughed alot and snuggled into her hefty companion. It occurred to her that some adults might be so desperate for children that they go to childrens films just to hear the vitality of the little audience's laughter. It made her feel sad. Later, they met up with Jim and pretended to be a family. They went out to a pizza place and used their son as a distraction to their fractured, chipped marriage.