Sunday, March 16, 2003

bidwell street

she dreamed the betrayal before it actually happened. tossing and twisting under a distant blanket, she veered through the nightmare, wishing for escape, for morning. like all dreams, this one careened surreally from the extraordinary to the implausible, seeming all the while like life’s simple routine.
in her unconscious limbo, she found herself among friends left behind weeks ago. that relationships neglected could peel and flake and fade, she knew. but surely loving maintenance could overcome the eroding effects of absence? young alliances always feel as though they will last forever.
she awoke feeling drained and puzzled, vaguely remembering: the faces - his, and hers, and theirs, eyes averted - and the questions uneasily avoided.
later, when she called the faraway number for reassurance, and heard the hesitance in the voices a lifetime removed, she knew that no amount of long-distance care could stop the deterioration.
and she hung up, irrefutably on her own.

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