This is Where We Are - The Walls Inside Part 5

It is unseasonably cold in New Orleans. I feel like I would know this from the light on the wall even if I could not feel this fact. The wind, in gusts, sounds cold.

I am looking at these blank walls. One wall is hardly blank because the sunlight is flashing on it. There are the two empty hooks where the painting on paper hung.

It is late (for me), 9 in the morning. My mind is already full, cluttered. My children are up and talking and moving through the house. I am sitting on my bed trying to look at blank walls. Children abhor a vacuum.

I want the vacuum to tell me something but walls speak in soft voices. Tomorrow, when the house is quiet I will be back here listening.