It’s So Quiet

11:17 pm. Rain shushing on the road outside. Cheap Ikea clock ticking, fridge hums, sad.

In 7 hours I will be here, again, at this table, coffee in hand. What day is it, how did I get here, what do you want from me nowwwwww. But for now, quiet.

***

Someone tonight made a good point. When you write with your hand, you’re using one hand. One side of your brain. When you write with a keyboard, you’re using both hands. Both sides of your brain. I see this like a checkerboard scenario. Left side cancels right: you end up with words. Just words. No meaning, no soul, no science. Just words.

Is it true, though. I can create with both hands.

***

Little stars, little flowers, asterisks. Asterisks. That word is just wrong. I prefer asterii. I don’t like it when “k” is surrounded by “s”. I guess “k” doesn’t like it either.

***

You know, I’ve been separating my paragraphs with asterii since before you were born. Back when I used to write with one hand, using the other hand to hold the paper, not to THINK, just to hold the paper, I still separated ideas, paragraphs, sentences with asterii.

Even before I knew they were asterii.

***

But the word I love most is ampersand.

***

Because of Atwood. Of course. I remember reading along to that poem in Canadian Literature class, practicing the & & & with my black pen. Read “Variations On The Word Sleep” and tell me that ampersand is not the most beautiful word since, um, since pillbug. Or clean. Or your favourite word. What’s your favourite word?

We lived in a house once, we had a meeting, what should we call the new house? I said ampersand. Roommate said Serendip. He won.

***

I should have said asterisk. I might have. I don’t remember. I might not have said ampersand either.

***

You’re distracted now and you hate it here. You should go.
I shouldn’t stay up this late. I should go.

***

Still, I stay. Still.