Still in the corner

The Parabuthus is still in the corner. I put a second wet cotton ball in this morning because the first one dried out overnight and I felt bad about it, which is a stupid thing to feel bad about. She has not moved. I keep checking the box from the doorway when I walk past, the way you check on a stove you already turned off.

I keep thinking about the people who stayed in Cape Town. Not her specifically. The whole category. They have kitchens with matching things in them. They have one mug they use every day and they know which one it is. I do not have a mug. I have four that do not match and I rotate them like a superstition. Sometimes I think the whole life I am building out here is just a more elaborate version of rotating mugs.

The fine. I looked at the number on the traffic department site and closed the tab. I have the money in the account. That is not the problem. The problem is that paying it makes the thing real, and I am not ready for the thing to be real. I think I have been not ready for several things for about four years now.

My head is quiet again today. I am watching it the way she watches the corner of her box. I do not trust it. It is either resting or it is lining something up and I cannot tell which yet.