“There’s something in me that likes / to imagine the things I’m afraid of, / for example, the future.” – Chase Twitchell, “Stripped Car”
I spend a lot of time avoiding thinking about the future. Yesterday the tea leaves told me that things were about to change for me. I usually don’t believe in that stuff, horoscopes and tea leaves and palm readings, but the tea leaves insisted on being heard. After that I took the bus to the Central District and had a yoga class at Misty Yoga. There was a new instructor and I couldn’t hear her calling the poses very well, so I left the yoga studio and headed downtown. The red meringues at the All Seasons Bakery called to me as I walked past on Second Avenue, so I went in and bought a half-dozen. They cooed as they came out of the case and rode along in the pink box they came in. Then it was time for the rain and so I ducked into the library and hid out for a while until it stopped. Such a quiet sound books make when they want to be read! Finally, the light rail took me back to Beacon Hill and when I came in the door, the tea leaves apologized and told me they were mistaken. Things were not about to change for me, they said. We’re sorry, but they are going to stay the same for awhile. That’s all right, I said. Me and the red meringues were just about to keep each other company.