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She thinks that if she were high like her brother she would write better mysteries. The one she finished yesterday as well as the true crime makeup murder binge sort of sickened her. The life seemed such a boring waste, and she knew that the next thing to look forward to was the pizza at the place she had begun going every Sunday. She had been someone who ordered her meals take-out 90% and had beers and Mary Jane every single night to being relatively sober.
She's swept the leaves after her lame walk passing a home her family had lived in before she was born. The hill was like a level 4 on the treadmill incline, so she treated herself with the extra burn. It had become boring beyond belief, but she was reluctant to voice that out loud as god knew excitement could be more of a curse.
This time next week, her youngest niece would be a married woman and your narrator would be riding in the car with her stepdad and mom back to the large home that was without a tv. Is that what would save her life? Is that what would make it all better? having some stories to watch on a larger screen - even perhaps the Criterion channel.
She had dreamt of Donald trump last night. He had been sort of hitting on her and she was shocked because she was so old and frumpy. She asked him if he would consider a flat tax. He said it seemed like a good idea. She woke up.
She wasn't bored enough to work on the puzzle, but she did sweep the leaves. It made her laugh inside as they came down in beautiful cascade as she was sweeping them, but her goal had been to not have them cluster up on concrete in a useless mulch situation.
The neighborhood cat was getting more and more friendly. The annoying thing was she mostly liked to play and whine. These were behaviors that did not enthuse narcissi, and she even felt more guilt for Edith. She had dreamt Edith was a dog in California and there was no leash but a huge throng of tourists. She didn't worry as she figured she would stay by her, but later after she was lost she wished she had asked the pet store lady for some string at least. Edith wasn't used to being a dog and didn't know to follow and crowds upset her.
It was hard not to think how lucky all the people she wanted weren't in her life. It was a pretty boring facade. Could she say boring one more time? She had had this image once of being in Italy - when she had thought of what she really wanted - and the light mauve huge long curtains over the French door windows flowed outside. She was alone but always waiting.
The butterflies and the leaves coming down were gorgeous. She thought of her sister and the compartments she was able to build in her mind. Narcissi had it always flowing. Her aunt had called yesterday, but her silent phone didn't allow her to hear it. She would be reading a paragraph at her neice's wedding. She should be so nervous but not yet. She was beginning to wonder. The numbness of this huge move was wearing off into a bit of raw pain. She was looking forward to the two beers.
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