Jaws Of Life

Woke up this morning to the jaws of life pulling someone out of his car right in front of my house. The car turned over, totalled, and the person maybe dead, Christmas presents all over the place spilled out the back end through the shattered window. My sister and I watched from a short distance while my heart broke. Twenty minutes later, the man emerged from the wreckage on a stretcher-- I could see his soft white sneakers stained with blood from my porch. There was a thin patina of snow on the grass, the sun shone like it almost never does in Detroit.

I walked back inside and closed my door. Had slept in late, late, late, because this year has been a doozy. Had dreams of swimming with everyone I ever knew. Didn't know what to make of it so I kept on swimming. When I woke up, I remembered all the people were shopping and going, catching the sales. Thought about the gifts I needed to buy. And then saw those gifts on the street and about who they might be intended for. The cops started to pick them up after everyone was gone, the bows gleaming in the light, carrying them gently, without any speed now that the man was gone, as if they could protect something precious, hoping against hope that it might make a difference, like we all do when there's nothing else left.

Michelle's Spell of the Day
"God forgives those who invent what they need." Lillian Hellman

Cocktail Hour
Drinking store suggestion: Dragonfly in Ferndale -- great clothes for women!

Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Black Friday!