Dangerous Compassions



“I’m actually enjoying this heat,” my friend said.

“What heat?” I asked.

“Oh, this isn’t hot?” he asked.

Our friend flew down from Oregon to help us with our moving process.  For him, the low 90s is hot.

“In the real summer, it’s up to 108 just about every day,” I said.

“Oh, ok,” he said.  “In Eugene, sometimes it rains for four or five days straight.  And it’s just like–I’m going crazy!”

We are good at crazy.  Ming and this friend and our community member took a load of stuff in a uhaul to California, leaving before sunrise.  There was the crescent moon, Venus, and Mercury seeing them off.  And a meteorite too.

They left and I started some laundry, washing the sheets and pillowcase of our house guest.  Sorting, giving things away, evaluating, remembering.  What we carry with us, and what we leave behind.  Dreaming of another life.

new chapter

People keep telling us we’re starting a new chapter.  Yes, I guess that’s apt.  Maybe more than a chapter–a new book, or Part II of the same book.

Back to California is appropriate.  When we visited my homeland in January, I didn’t want to leave the beach.  Do you remember?  I was sitting on the beach and said to Ming, “You can go back for our stuff.  I’m staying right here.”  It was after the dolphin relatives visited.

I was kidding–I did return to Las Vegas.  But I need the ocean.  Now that my mom is dead, what do I have?

If you can’t take the heat, get out of Las Vegas.  It was good to work here for some years.  But my body said enough.


The house guest did install the portable ac that was delivered a few days before his arrival.  He’s very handy.

Heat is relative.  It was good to meet him as a friend.  We had been longtime acquaintances before.  Change is hard work but exhilarating.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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