Dangerous Compassions

porch gecko, quail eggs, healing my relationship with liminal spaces

Our friend W came over to help Ming repot the tree collard, among other things.  I heard them outside.  We thought it was root bound.

Half an hour later, I went outside–Ming was giving me a ride somewhere.  I saw on the concrete outside our front door a small weird lizard.  I thought it was a newt.  I yelled to Ming to look at it.  It seemed like a lizard that likes wet places.  Not a desert lizard at all.  He tried to take a picture.

I’ve seen lots of fence lizards in my life.  A chuckwalla.  Some horny toads, long ago–my favorite.

Well, it was a gecko.  I though geckos like wet places.  I guess they like the wet places within the dry places?

Our friend hasn’t been replying to my txts or calls or anything.  I thought it was me.  I guess everyone thought that.  Someone he’s close to stopped by.  She was looking for him.  I guess it’s time to be worried.

Oh, we got a lot of quail eggs today.  I hardboiled ten of them this afternoon.  I ate two.  They are amazing.

I know I’m a broken record, lately.  But doesn’t this sound like a dream?  I dreamt R was missing.  His friend stopped by to look for him.  She was wearing all black clothes.  She was pregnant, and her hair was longer.  We talked outside, and then she left.

I have these dresses that are too low-cut.  I tried buying some brooches to fasten the neckline higher.  They’re a pain.  I hate pins and other stabby things.  They give me mild anxiety. 

Kind of like this room in our house.  More than a hallway–less than a legitimate room.  Some stupid passageway room.  Ugh.  I was telling Ming, maybe I need to heal my relationship with liminal spaces.

Then I told Ming I sounded like a hippie.  Then we decided liminal is more of a grad school word than a hippie word.  But “heal my relationship with” is a hippie concept, maybe.

In the house where Ming and I met, my friend K had a room like that also.  I think it had a narrow bed but was mostly being used as a hallway-closet.  I need a room not to be a passageway.

I know bras exist that are like a camisole and a bra at the same time–lacy and intended to be seen.  So I thought I could solve the low neckline dress problem like that. 

But do you know how long it’s been since I bought a bra?  I don’t know what my size is.  Maybe Ming will help me measure my ribcage later.

Fall is freaking me out.  It’s my favorite season.  But who knew summer would ever end. 

Summer seemed like some president whose term is over, but he won’t leave.  “By the way, we have a dictatorship now.”  Oh, Laura-Marie.  We don’t need more dystopias.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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