I can hear an ominous buzzing. It's the sound of flies, masses of them, a sound that will stop you dead in your tracks in an open field as you scan for a body. I've looked for the source of this sound for days, peeking over the hill into the ditch behind our house, searching for the telltale swivel of a buzzing fly that will lead my eye to the carcass. There isn't one. Maybe a corpse will float up in my life somewhere else, then. Something I had forgotten for a long time, rising reeking to the surface.
More painting, more spots on the floor dabbed up with my fingers. I'm green today.
We spent a nice afternoon at the pool yesterday, and Gavin dunked himself for the first time. He struggles to escape us now, certain he can swim like a fish if we would just let go. We compromise and set him loose on the stairs, where he crawls on his belly through the water and jumps in deeper and deeper until he clings to the wall and dangles. We returned home to find the neighbor girl pressed up against our screen door. That child is bored, and I can't say I like our family privacy invaded on a daily basis. I'm learning to manage her.
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