Sunday night, we had pizza with green peppers and broccoli. We were seated around our little circular table in the kitchen when my phone started singing,
but I wasn’t allowed to check it because we have a strict no-phones-during-dinner rule.
So I ate a little while Mom and Dad talked about this earthquake that had just happened in Papua New Guinea.
They met in the Peace Corps in Papua New Guinea, and so whenever anything happened there, even something terrible,
it was like all of a sudden they were not large sedentary creatures,
but the young and idealistic and self-sufficient and rugged people they had once been,
and their rapture was such that they didn’t even glance over at me as I ate faster than I’d ever eaten,
transmitting items from my plate into my mouth with a speed and ferocity that left me quite out of breath,
which of course made me worry that my lungs were again swimming in a rising pool of fluid.
I banished the thought as best I could. I had a PET scan scheduled in a couple weeks.
If something was wrong, I’d find out soon enough. Nothing to be gained by worrying between now and then.
And yet still I worried. I liked being a person. I wanted to keep at it. Worry is yet another side effect of dying.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색