#157

the waiting game

Linda Lysell

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We brought Mao’s little red book to the mammogram appointment.

For good luck, you know? The specter of the good chairman watching over me.

And now all there is Waiting.

Dix jours, she says, like it’s no big deal at all.

Trying to figure out how to live while I wait to find out if it’s the worst thing.

My phone feels like a bomb, scrying mirror of fucking doom.

Something awful all of us end up doing at some point.

Ten days is plenty of time to convince yourself of every evil thing. For your mind to overpower your intuition.

Here are some fragments, like a cryptic dear-diary you need to decode.