Oh, I Think So

She Is Where and Oh, I Think So are taking a week off. Enjoy our conundrum: Detroit Metropolitan Airport

When she got home from work that night, the phone rang and there was more of the same -- heavy nasal breathing, a car horn, static.  She hung up and called right back using the return call feature her carrier provided and, yes, it was the Nazi-lover, being a stalker.  She told him who it was -- didn't he have Caller ID?  Why didn't she have Caller ID herself?  She used to have Caller ID but that phone broke -- and that if he did it one more time, she'd call the police. "Fine," he said, and hung up. That might have been that but she got in her car and drove to a nearby Radio Shack and bought their least expensive regular phone with a Caller ID feature.  When she plugged it in at home she thought, there, now that really is that. Sixty seconds later the phone rang. "Caller unknown.  Number unknown," said the Caller ID.   Of course it did. "Hello," she said tentatively. "Hey," said a familiar voice that sounded far away.  ...

She Is Where and Oh, I Think So are taking this week off. Enjoy this picture of somewhere that I am not this week:                                                                           Photo by E M Nowak

Quicker than she thought it would happen, it was fall.  Her aunt has passed away in her sleep one lovely summer night, a night that wasn't so humid and uncomfortable so the windows could be opened wide.  She must have died right after everyone had fallen into the hard, deep sleep of the emtionally exhausted.  When her cousin went into the aunt's room in the morning, the aunt was not just cold, she was covered by more flies that anyone could describe, having their way with the corpse, decomposition being their favorite feast. As her cousin's husband told her, it was unspeakably gross and sent her cousin into the living room where she collapsed onto the floor, her body first stretched up and out, her arms shooting over her head like that of a modern dancer. "I hope this isn't a thing of hers now," the husband told her at the wake. "What?  Collapsing dramatically onto the floor?" she asked quietly. "Yeah.  She seems to really like doing it....