scrawls
still cheaper than therapy*


9.5.10
I? I had a dream, not very recently - maybe last month, that M was in my kitchen, making something in the oven. E was home, the dog was home, everything was normal. Taking out the baking pan he seared his arm from second knuckle to past his elbow on the hot metal, black, red, bits trailing smoke. E was screaming, terrified, and M would not accept help, would not see a doctor, would not do or allow any first aid, would not go to a hospital: he stood in my kitchen with a smoking arm, staring at it. Only staring at it, hypnotized, refusing everything.

It was all i could do to not call him when i woke up. I do not think this requires a dictionary for interpretation.

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scrawled @ 19:43

Blogger Crystal T. said...10/5/10 05:31 ...
Hang in there, Liz. Anything your bloggy friends can do? 

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