Wednesday (post 1)
After he left, she stood on the aluminum strip that divided the kitchen linoleum from the carpet of the living room and stared at one of the copper tacks that held it in place. She felt small and useless in the new white cotton socks that her Mother had bought for the new school year. She shuffled across the low gold knap, her feet picking up static, and stopped atop the small plastic mat of the front door. The water that rested in the ridges of the mat was drawn to the pristine fibers over her toes. She felt this, and slid one foot along the grooves, like a rootling.
She looked out of one of the little frosted glass plates of the front door and saw the woods near the house. The crowns of the swamp oaks split into fragments, two-dimensional snowy television images, shadowy and unreal. She stood still for twenty minutes, watching the trees sway in the wind, moving her thumb as if she were holding a flip book. After she had hypnotised herself in this way, she liked to throw open the door, feel the air rush in around the metal door, and see the trees as they really were.
She looked out of one of the little frosted glass plates of the front door and saw the woods near the house. The crowns of the swamp oaks split into fragments, two-dimensional snowy television images, shadowy and unreal. She stood still for twenty minutes, watching the trees sway in the wind, moving her thumb as if she were holding a flip book. After she had hypnotised herself in this way, she liked to throw open the door, feel the air rush in around the metal door, and see the trees as they really were.