Au lit: le baiser, 1892. By French artist Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec
Dr. Zelinsky opened her office door to find her client upside down in the middle of the room, performing a perfect headstand.
“Hey, Dr. Zee. I started yoga like you suggested. This is my favorite pose. Come join me!”
“Very nice, Brandy. But I prefer my sessions right side up.”
Brandy gracefully descended and went to lounge on the couch, chattering all the while.
“I’ve been to a class every day this week. Who knew there were so many styles? That Jivamukti is too “out there” with all the chanting, and Yin just dragged on and on. But Vinyasa is definitely my groove. Great idea. Do you do yoga?”
He lifted the binoculars, focused the lenses and could just make out her red foul weather jacket, bright against the tiny white triangle of the sail. She headed away from land, away from him, towards the horizon. The ocean was calm and the sunshine cast a path of shimmering diamonds between them, reminding him of the jewelry she left behind.
Amy was early and sat stiffly on the couch. It was her first time seeing a therapist and she wondered if she should lay down.
I took teeny bites of the protein bar as I watched the screen showing my husband’s vital signs. Different colored graphs scrolled by on a continuous roller coaster but no alarms were ringing so I figured things must be stable. His eyes were closed and his breathing was even. I folded the empty wrapper into a small square and put it in my pocket.
“Watch your step!” Wendy shouted, jerking him to the side.
It had been a week of “lasts.” Her last term paper, her last shift at the coffee shop, her last Taco Tuesday at Don Jose’s. She heard the toilet flush and realized that this would be the last time Zoe would slip under the covers next to her in their bed.
