Oatmeal

Chop Banana. Boil water.

The day AFTER

Oatmeal. It sticks right. 

Throw out the pizza boxes. Throw everything out.

Call everyone. Calling everyone. 

Then, no one. Vow of Silence.

Ginger tea with Ginger Jelly. Throat so dry I can’t whistle. No one’s whistling.

Wash clothes. Wash wash wash. Keep drinking water while I can, right? Remember when we dug a hole to catch the rain? I’m going to flush while I can.

Found my lucky outfit I forgot to put on. The blue one. It wasn’t that dirty. Well, now it’s too late.

The Santa Ana wind is blowing hard. 15 mph? It’s not rocking the house, but the windows shudder. Some of our house windows are 100+ years old. 

Imagine what the olden-days people must’ve thought when the rain never came, or when the river rose up the cliffs.

Fire warnings. Power out. Read a book. Monterey went black. A string of blackouts, fires, and migraines, pop pop pop, like a string of red paper firecrackers.

I have a flashlight. It’s too small, but here it is. Here it fucking is. 

Boil rice, and add last of the …