Laying with Elisabeth, patient zero, has lead to my own illness. I'm no Calamity Jane. Though, I took comfort that the path of the illness was charted out for me already. Elisabeth outlining the discomfort ahead in store for me. Our days started late because our nights dragged on.
Coughs would drive Lisa awake at 4AM. Following a particular rough bout she started to cry. I crawled my body out of the bed and out into the living room to find the cough syrup. Boot-strapping my brain, I filled a small serving of salvation in the dull, bathroom light. Eventually the rattle of her chest would come to a calm and we would return to laying together with our arms intertwined and our legs overlaying each other.
Elisabeth spent a few hours away at work while I composed some thoughts in email and cleaned a few things around the house. It was about nightfall when we both felt overcome with illness. I came to pick her up and then we returned home for a brief respite where I felt my energy fading. Elisabeth placed a small kiss on my lips and encouraged me to smile; between bouts of her coughing. I complied.
The next day was spent in preparation of the Tattoo appointment that never happened. Arriving on time, we were given about an hour wait and then treated to an artist that hadn't bothered to prepare anything and a "probably not a good idea" or "not possible" and $270 quote (for about 1.5 hours of work). The store owner was pleasant, the receptionist suggested a more attractive font, and Lisa suggested splitting the quote across both forearms. I wasn't sold and Lisa wasn't either. I told him that I'd come back with another idea. When we left Elisabeth suggested a few places in Portland and some other great artists online.
We spent the rest of the evening talking and combing through tattoo artists online. Elisabeth then sorted through some things she had stored away in long lost bins to wear and sell. I provided photographer and morale support from the couch where I exhaustively slouched. Crawling into bed later we talked more about life, a future, and perhaps our future. Elisabeth passed out for an hour, laying there in my arms, before she finished packing. She woke once in fear, once in laughter, and another time confused by questions.
We talked into the early morning with the ease of comfort of old friends. Eventually laying down for small nap before she caught the train this morning back to Portland.
I walked her as far as I was allowed and waved a tearful goodbye from the station as her train pulled away.
Does anyone have a book suggestion that had a hand in changing their life?
Coughs would drive Lisa awake at 4AM. Following a particular rough bout she started to cry. I crawled my body out of the bed and out into the living room to find the cough syrup. Boot-strapping my brain, I filled a small serving of salvation in the dull, bathroom light. Eventually the rattle of her chest would come to a calm and we would return to laying together with our arms intertwined and our legs overlaying each other.
Elisabeth spent a few hours away at work while I composed some thoughts in email and cleaned a few things around the house. It was about nightfall when we both felt overcome with illness. I came to pick her up and then we returned home for a brief respite where I felt my energy fading. Elisabeth placed a small kiss on my lips and encouraged me to smile; between bouts of her coughing. I complied.
The next day was spent in preparation of the Tattoo appointment that never happened. Arriving on time, we were given about an hour wait and then treated to an artist that hadn't bothered to prepare anything and a "probably not a good idea" or "not possible" and $270 quote (for about 1.5 hours of work). The store owner was pleasant, the receptionist suggested a more attractive font, and Lisa suggested splitting the quote across both forearms. I wasn't sold and Lisa wasn't either. I told him that I'd come back with another idea. When we left Elisabeth suggested a few places in Portland and some other great artists online.
We spent the rest of the evening talking and combing through tattoo artists online. Elisabeth then sorted through some things she had stored away in long lost bins to wear and sell. I provided photographer and morale support from the couch where I exhaustively slouched. Crawling into bed later we talked more about life, a future, and perhaps our future. Elisabeth passed out for an hour, laying there in my arms, before she finished packing. She woke once in fear, once in laughter, and another time confused by questions.
We talked into the early morning with the ease of comfort of old friends. Eventually laying down for small nap before she caught the train this morning back to Portland.
I walked her as far as I was allowed and waved a tearful goodbye from the station as her train pulled away.
Does anyone have a book suggestion that had a hand in changing their life?
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
Still Life with Woodpecker is much tamer.
:high five: