Compassion is inconvenient

compassion

One. Two. Three. Three sailboats drifted out on the water today. I squinted my eyes, was that a fourth sail easing into view? Yup, that’s four. Clearly today was a beautiful day to be outside. I turned away from the huge window and glanced up at the clock. A half hour had passed in the time it had taken me to count the boats, wander fancifully through the streets stretching in thin ribbons below me, and imagine myself staring up at the high church steeple sticking like a needle in the distant horizon. Nothing behind me had moved in my mental absence. The little mound on the bed lay motionless, the machines swooshed rhythmically, the numbers on the screen glowed steadily. Nothing would change today, there would be no outside play for us. Satisfied that I had missed nothing inside, my eyes again drifted to the window to the world … Continue reading