u s e y o u r h a n d s

For ten minutes after her alarm rang, Lee visualized her day. It was a rehearsal of sorts, how to deal with that meeting, the drive to work, food to make, outfits to wear. Even activities she had done every day for years, like making the morning coffee, Lee examined yet again. She felt that this helped her actualize her goals and avoid potential pitfalls. Lee made sure she did this, even — perhaps especially — on her most hectic days. Reflecting at a day’s end, Lee judged whether or not she had strayed markedly from how she’d imagined they day. And more often than not, she had not.

But today was the most dramatically different. In fact, after today, she never rehearsed again.

She never imagined that just after she got out of bed, that she’d stumble across the cat’s body. Lee scooped it up and rushed to the vet’s where she was told the cat’s neck was broken. Later, she remembered a thud in the night and wondered if that was when it happened, but still couldn’t figure out how.

On her quick drive to work, after leaving the vet to cremate the cat, she hurriedly swung into a Dunkin’ Donuts for her morning coffee. Lee had grown accustomed to her own brew, and had forgotten just how positively delicious Dunkin’ Donuts coffee could be.

She concentrated on that thud in the middle of the night and the cat’s broken neck. Lee visualized the room where she’d found the cat dead and thought about the ledge. The cat often slept on a plant ledge eight feet up. It must have fallen, she decided, chasing a mouse he would never catch.

That afternoon, she picked up the cat at the vet’s. Lee didn’t know what to do with the flowered tin they gave her. She ended up setting in on a doily-topped table in the living room, as if it were filled with candy and not ashes. She flipped on the television and saw that How to Marry a Millionaire was on AMC. This was Lee’s favorite movie and for a few moments, she felt grateful to be home to watch it. And then the tears came.

Her husband crawled in bed next to her. He curled his body to Lee’s form and drew her close to his body, his cheek on hers. Peter had expressed little fondness for their cat, she felt his tears slip down her face to the pillow below. She stroked his arm, baffled at this unexpected emotion.

Lee didn’t compare anything at the end of that day. It just was, and now it was over.

“What are the differences between Barilla and Creamette pasta?” she wondered, holding a box of each in her hand. In the end, Claudette went with Creamette, because even though Barilla sounded more Italian, the Price is Right always had Creamette products, and she still felt a fondness for the show even though Bob Barker sexually harassed the models. Claudette tossed the box into her cart and heard the undeniable sound of noodles breaking.

She took utter delight in the sound her heels made on the supermarket’s tile floor. Claudette altered her gait so instead of the one click, she produced two per stride. It took little effort to make her trips to the store enjoyable; Claudette often found herself staring at piles of green peppers when the day got too tough. It was a place just for her and Claudette almost seemed surprised when she encountered other carts during her late-night shopping treks.

The aisle was wide open ahead of her. Claudette progressed slowly, taking in each cereal box. Inevitably, she chose her usual box of Wheat Chex, nestling it next to the Creamette and her glass-containered milk. Sugar cereals were carefully lined up on the shelf beneath the healthy cereals. And between the Trix rabbitt and the Lucky Charms leprechaun, there, peering, judging, was Cap’n Crunch.

Earlier in the day, Claudette had had a run-in with a disturbed panhandler who chased her from her bus stop. More unnerving than his throwing a boot at her were his livid red eyes, round as half-dollars with tiny pupils. And now, looking into the Cap’n’s visage, it all came back to her, this thing she’d been trying to push out of her mind. Just like the panhandler, the Cap’n wanted something from her and she would not give it. And though she ran from the panhandler, Claudette stared back at the Cap’n.

Someone cleared their throat behind her. Claudette turned away from the Cap’n and moved her cart to clear a path for another shopper. When she turned back tot he Cap’n, she turned all of his boxes around.

Unrelated: I have “Radar Love” stuck in my head.

Carolyn fingered the thick white linen tablecloth, admiring how it stood out so dramatically against the deep red plush carpet. And the silver! How it shone and looked so rich, so regal. It was with great sadness that she drew out her plastic pill case and placed it on the table. The garish orange plastic infected her view with tackiness and suddendly the expensive restaurant looked more like a casino diner in Reno. Carolyn dumped out the contents of Tuesday into her soup spoon, snapped the case shut, and dumped it into her purse.

By the time her coffee and cheesecake arrived, Carolyn felt at home again in elegance. She took up her first pill and glass of water, but paused just before she brought the pill to her tongue. Carolyn put them both down and took up her soup spoon of pills. She stuck them in her piece of cheesecake. When she was done, it was studded with three blue circles, a red oval, two white hexagons, and two peach pentagons. The cheesecake was delicious, depite the uncharacteristic crunching.

Today is a bread day. I made bread for the first time a few weeks ago, and just fell in love with it. I wish I’d discovered earlier the sound dough makes when you punch the air out of it. After a good loaf of white bread and a batch of hot cross buns, I’m going to try my hand at challah.

Have you been to the Lee Bontecou exhibit at the MCA? Go. Post-apocalyptic space vehicles or primordial crustaceans? You make the call.