There isn't enough room here for you, but you are on my mind. The smell of all the old leather and the old sunshine that has it's heat stored in all of the vinyl and plastic and rubber, makes my head hurt. I can't stretch out, but I'm comfortable . Outside people are walking by the car, blocking the light. The odd child will sometimes look in on me, until the hand they are holding jerks them back towards the stores, or to their car, which is parked somewhere out here with ours. A thin yellow line is drawn across the insides of my eye lids. The winter sun is too bright and it feels like my eyes aren't closed at all. It's because all the leaves are gone off the trees and there's nothing to filter out the light. It makes our apartment look filthy, with all the dust revealed by the odd angles of sun rays. It's the same here in the car. Except, it's cold here and at home I'd listen to records, not the radio station you left on for me.
For a moment, or less, I wondered if you were coming back. It was the keys swinging against the steering column when you shut the door that made me think that. Maybe that it sounded different than other times. Or maybe it's that I usually just sit up in the passenger seat with my forehead on the glass, rolling it side to side, until my headache dulls. I like to lay down though, however awkward you think it may be. "It's so dramatic, almost odd", you said. But that was Thanksgiving at your parents and I won't sit off to the side with a TV tray in front of my wheelchair. It's embarrassing. Especially when the nephews sneak their eyes open and stare at me during grace.
My hair itches under my hat the way it does when it gets too warm. I may pull myself up and cool my face on the glass. You've been a good while gone though, so I just may wait. You should be back soon. I don't want you to think I missed you or worried. You may make me come in with you next time and it's hard for me to listen to you struggle with the chair when you pull it out of the trunk. You should be back soon. I'm not worried about the car battery. That is, if you remembered to pull the key back to ACC. Not many people carry jumper cables anymore. We could be here awhile if the battery pulled down. I'll just wait for you, scratch my head with the door handle. You should be back any minute. Just a few errands, a return. You've been a good while gone, though. But, it's hard to judge time when the shadows don't change. That's a winter sun for you, too bright without any leaves to filter any of the light. I'll have to wait until it drops a bit more to guess the time. I'll just pull myself up, rest on my elbows... see were the sun is now.
