I'm fresh off an airplane, still unpacked. Green tea to my left. Outside electric buses whir on swinging cables. The sun is shining. It feels good to be home.
The phone shows two missed calls from the Musician. Missed, intentionally. The band is here. I wouldn't mind catching up with my gypsies, playing hip, feeling cool when Elijah hollers my name backstage, checking out the new stage act...
But I'm no fan. I can't pretend to like the Musician. Even his voicemail irritated me. Not answering is the only power I have that he can't steal. Silence is my strength.
Irkingly, my in-law is counting on me to get her tickets to their concert. I don't know how to tell her that I don't want her to go. I hate to let her down, but it's the sane thing to do.
12:15 p.m. - 2008-03-13