Back

The flight home is smooth, and soon we are on a bus back from JFK. I arrive to a quiet house and a stack of newspapers. The lawn is overgrown. I feel oddly out of place. I unpack, tidy up the house. I download my pictures into the computer and watch them all.

I think of Jesus and how last night, after being garralous all week, despite his regal attire, he was oddly quiet. This morning I gave him my new Littman stethescope. I told him that I wore his watch on my wrist so that when I felt my patient's pulses, I would always think of him, and now when he listened to people's hearts when he helped out in the hospital, he could think of me. We embraced fiercely.

I play no music, just sit in the quiet house.

There are clouds in the night sky, ocassionaly breaking to show the heavens.