- Wake up at 2.30 am. Again.
- Flip the pillow to the cool side.
- Fall asleep. Again.
- Dream you’re in a long, dark room (a bar?) that’s crowded with people wearing grey overcoats.
- Through the knot of grey, see Seamus Heaney (not in grey).
- Poke the shoulder of the person next to you and point out Seamus.
- Get excited when your friend says she (? he?) knows Seamus and will bring him over to introduce you.
- Dream there’s an explosion of some sort and the next thing everyone is in the street and Seamus is gone. No blood, no wreckage, no evidence of a bomb. Just no Seamus.
- Wake up in the Thursday November darkness.
- Blink in the bright bathroom light.
- Brush teeth.
- Feed the dog and cats and girl.
- Wave goodbye to the man and the girl.
- Think, “Now what? The bills?”
- Spy the pan of brownies.
- Shave a thin slice as if to even out the crooked cut line. This is a service. An act of straightening. You should be thanked.
- Strictly avoid the news.
- Consider a nap.
- Think about Seamus. Was he wearing a red coat like the little girl in “Shindler’s List”? Was he a sign? A warning?
- Look at the brownie pan again.
- Go outside to get logs.
- Converse with the goats.
- Start the fires.
- Read reviews about smoke detectors.
- Remember that no one can agree on internet reviews.
- In an act of faith, order new versions of the same brand of smoke detectors you already have.
- Check things off the list.
- Add things you’ve already done to the list.
- Check them off.
- Consider a nap.
- No really. Consider it. You didn’t sleep much last night.
- Blame Seamus. Or the fact that you didn’t get to meet him.
- Tell the dog to stop licking himself. Again.
- Think about “The West Wing” as a political fairy tale.
- Do bills.
- Chuck more logs onto the fire.
- Straighten the brownies out just a bit more.
- Wonder where Seamus went when the explosion happened. Was he killed? Did he just leave through the back door? Did he set the explosion off?
- Take a dreamless nap.
- Avoid the radio.
- See the note on the counter. The one the girl wrote before she could spell, that long ago.
- Imagine time as a spiral, where you’re always in reach of the last loop, revisiting concentric circles of your moments, but each pass takes you just a little further from the last.
- Admit you’re not fooling anyone about the brownies.
- Apologize to the dog.
- Wonder if time spirals intersect. When Seamus traveled his spiral, how close did his come to yours?
- Make dinner.
- Watch night come in.
- Think about writing a poem.
- Watch a movie.
- Go to sleep.
- Wake up at 2.30 am.
Grongar 