Gravity kept the coffee in the cup. It was doing its job. It was keeping the flowers in the vase, the
vase on the table and it was holding the table to the floor.
Gravity knew exactly how much to move the dial when I stood
on the bathroom scale. It wasn’t necessarily
a friendly or kind gravity but like I said, it was doing the only thing it knew to do.
As there was no suicide note left behind the police had to
do their investigation. They had to
examine everything, ask their questions over and over again. They all walked through the house with their
clumsy shoes. They didn’t care. They were looking for somebody to blame.
Gravity was holding me onto the kitchen chair as they asked
their questions and even though I knew why she had done it and I had a good idea what she must have been thinking as she climbed the stairs, I couldn’t help but
focus on the scuff marks the investigators were all leaving behind.
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