Thursday, September 20, 2012

Fuel For Helicopters #3

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We have no voluntary control over the beating of a heart. This morning I took the CPR renewal class at the Y. And this fact is all I can remember. It’s on repeat in my head. Going to pool. With my involuntary beating heart. If only I could concentrate on the beats rather than Rihanna over at the “Sanctuary.” Should have done a bit more research before taking this job. Smitten with pool: Check. Researched neighbors in case the nearest house is a televised Keiger: no check. Shoot.


Here’s something you may want to know about me: I fall asleep writing letters in my head; solving the universal conundrums; world peace. And I wake up void of even the simplest thought of the night, the plainest solution, the perfect verb. So, the only thing that makes sense is to swim. Despite the ruckus from next door. Forget going to bed early. I’m going for a walk.

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