secret motel

1. I was stocking one of the fridges at work this afternoon. A co-worker prepared his lunch while whistling "Joy to the World". I'm not even sure he was aware that he was doing it. I thought, 'You poor, poor bastard. Is your psyche so wounded by the holidays that you continue whistling carols into February?' When it gets that bad, even an atheist like me can't help but be moved by compassion to mentally compose a little godless prayer pleading for peace and relief in the vast catalog of obscure wreckage and interior dysfunction dooming 21st century humanity.

2. R. mentioned a couple weeks ago that she mailed me a letter and some books for my birthday. But the package never arrived. I wonder where it is? SOMEONE has it, some evil someone who knows they aren't supposed to have it. Maybe that person will read the books and become a less-evil person. I wish I could at least have the letter--and press it to my face, absorb the warmth, and maybe become a less-evil person.

3. I have a co-worker who brings me oranges and music. And I bring her music and save all her favorite magazines in the mailroom. And I would like to sit in a quiet space with her in some late patch of time and rub her back and put my mouth on her skin. But I won't dare! I'm afraid to get close enough for anyone to see what I am--and what I'm not.