Thursday

I think I die every Thursday.

That’s when everything changes.

Everything and nothing.

Just little things.

The computer corrects a word I've typed

a million times

to a spelling I've never seen before.

Frantic searching through dictionaries betrays me.

You idiot, it was always spelled this way.

It must have been.

But then Thursday rolls around again.

A rebirth into a new world.

Where the minutes seem longer.

the hours shorter.

Did people always pause for this long between words?

Did their eyes always linger on yours,

a little too long,

a little too knowingly.

The breaking headline news of Wednesday,

a mere nothing by Thursday.

No trace of the story.

Why is no one wearing a coat?

Or holding an umbrella.

It’s pouring outside.

But the rain is muted.

Even with the window open

each drop is a lie.

No I never missed your call,

you never called me.

No I wasn't at that party,

what are you talking about?

Their confusion is an act,

a deception.

People are staring.

I can feel it.

My coffee becomes cold in seconds.

All my furniture has been moved around.

These teeth don't feel real.

My reflection is too early.

my shadow too late.

My children are too quiet,

my wife is too loud.

The sky is falling down.

I swear it is,

just look.

How can you not see this.

You must be mad,

or is that me?

The feel of cool metal on my temple.

I know I put a bullet in this chamber,

but I’ve fired six times to no avail.

She’s screaming at me now.

No honey I'm not crazy,

just look outside.

We’re all done for anyway.

The sky is falling down,

and no one cares.

The sky is falling down honey,

the sky is falling down.

She clasps my face in her hands

and in a tense breath of desperation,

Whispers:

No its not.

Everything is fine.

I gasp in shock.

While she tries to reassure me,

her eyes give away

Everything.

Everything and nothing.

I think I die every Thursday.

One

The flight attendants are screaming

and there's no one in the cockpit.

A man chants the in flight menu loudly like a prayer,

another runs towards the exit.

Mommy, is everything ok?

A young girl asks, her mother

filling out the landing form in silence.

The right engine catches fire, then the left.

Lines and shapes turn into buildings, roads, cars.

The local time is 5PM and the weather is fair.

The girl shakes her mother but she won’t respond.

An old woman has collapsed in the aisle.

A few are in the brace position.

The seatbelt sign has come on.

Many languages are being spoken,

but all incomprehensibly.

The only thing heard is fear.

The only thing known is death.

I hold my breath, and close my eyes,

reminding myself that the chances

of dying in an aircraft

are a million to one.

A million to one,

A million to-

Nothing better to do

Poison in my coffee. I knew I should’ve left a tip. Always in a rush. I’ll be late to my own funeral.

Living in a blind society. Waiting for the curtain to fall. Make my coffee, drink my bed. Traffic, am I right?

They gave me time to kill. So now I’m killing time. What I don’t understand scares me. Thank God I brought a dictionary.

They’re making that noise again. I suppose someone made a joke. Working to earn paper. Pushing paper for work.

People act so calmly. All the while clinging hard. Wealth, age, the things you love. Statistics on a trading card.

Beginning to forget my name. The name of my only friend. Must meet myself sometime soon. Hope I’m not stood up again.

Dead rats don’t win races. Cogs will never get ahead. They stay in place and turn and turn. A ferris wheel filled with the dead.

Slanted Sunday rain. I tilt my head so I can see you. You’re smiling like a crazy person. Because you know I’m right.

The reaper’s hollow whistles, Fill the empty, lifeless street. I dance along, both eyes closed, With nothing better to do.