bungee

some of andrew's pics:

I'm afraid the bounce has run out of my bungee. Yesterday I was in mild shock from the downfall of vehicles #3 and 4 of the summer (Trucky, Magnet, Ollie, Andrew's truck, 3/4 totaled). I felt that all I could do was be good humored about it, laugh a little. Today I'm bummed. Today Andrew and I continue to deal with the insurance companies. We are dealing with the space somewhere between having a vehicle and not having one. The fine line between totaled and not.

The street is bare. It is ridden with sawdust and leaves that fell prematurely from the tree. The fence is missing four of its panels. The gate is the only part left standing. The signs lead pedestrians' eyes along the sidewalk and up to the scar on the oak tree where the giant branch peeled back yesterday morning and brought another tree down with it. Then they look back at Ollie and jaws drop. They stare in amazement. They trace the path of the fallen tree branch with their fingers from the tree down the street and sidewalk back to Ollie. I watch this happen over and over from the kitchen window. And it makes me sad.

And it makes me sad to think that in a couple days they will likely tow away Andrew's truck. And they will tow away my Ollie.

The clouds began to roll in this afternoon. Both of us thought about the rain leaking in through the shattered windshields. I walked to the auto parts store that I have become unhappily familiar with. Last time I was there to buy replacement taillights. This time I picked up a tarp and bungees. I felt like I was pulling a body bag over my car. Covering up its eyes. Hiding the damage from passersby. And I'm barely keeping my shit together right now. I want to curl up into a little ball and hide. But that makes me feel stupid and juvenile. After all, they are just cars, right?