Member-only story
rec center
Nov 24, 2020
November 2020
One morning, at the rec center
my usual (well I guess lately) usual
quiet is punctuated by a spin instructor’s voice.
She shouts with great elan:
Here we go! Come on! Keep it going!
-
I hear her music playing through the walls.
Silence is an echo without source. Completely
separate. The other rooms have offered little
sound till now. It was still. A vacancy –
now vibrating noise.
-
It is not enough to just say things are different now.
-
Pain remains the same. Grief that familiar
internal rhyme, that never forgets its tune
and knows how to jive. Violence enter each
of us, unsettling the contentment asking of our joy,
how can I make you dance?
