Buds

Today a horrible deadness came over me, in the afternoon. It was all sun glare and freezing weather, and I craved sugar and annihilation in a way I have not craved them for many weeks. I wrote:

Strange buds have grown in my throat, until they stick out my mouth; inarticulate fronds, nodding wisely, dumbly. I have only nonsense and failure. Sometimes the loneliness is so cold. There is nothing to do but nothing. Wait. Wait for another turn.

This evening Tori called from the hospital to say they were okay, but that she and her partner had had an accident on the freeway this afternoon. Getting on the freeway, she had veered to the shoulder, apparently, hit gravel and lost all traction: the car hit the divider on the right, spun across the three lanes, hit the divider on the left, and came to rest in the left lane. Collided with nothing else. They're fine now, though of course they'll be sore tomorrow.

I can't help connecting the distress I was in with the accident, which must have been happening at about that time. I don't believe in that sort of thing, particularly. But it certainly was an overwhelming fit of -- something.

Anyway. Grateful to have my daughter & her partner still in this world. But a little shaky.