The Analgesic Painting on the Living Room Wall
I was staring way out into the distance
through a window that wasn’t even there.
I’m sure my eyes were glazing over, as
they say. Yes, I remember now what
I saw through that window. But the
horizon’s various aspects grew more
and more blurry, less distinct, the
stark colors that defined things
got softer, turned pastel. “Swas-
tika the matter, Johnny?” Of
course Esther was concerned.
She always was. It’s nice to
have people who look out
for you, upon whom you
might lean for a bit, in
times like—“What?”
Something had
snapped me out
of my funk, at
least momentarily.
“What did you say,
Esther?”
