Tabula Rasta

In winter, the fall leaves became like cooked spinach,
all limp and squishy. Felicia trudged across them to offer quinoa to her llama
who had been grouchy lately. The presentation of food was at a gate in the hedgerow,
a porous portion of the barrier. Felicia stopped to apply lotion
to her chapped hands. Earlier, she had indulged in a frenzy
of dishwashing prior to the return of her partner, now three days overdue.


Today he would be back. Felicia would not nag about the overdue
return of her partner, would instead welcome him with a dinner of squab, red potatoes, spinach
fresh from the garden, a bottle of zinfandel, and a frenzy
of hungry, yearning lovemaking. The grouchy llama
was already at the gate, looking glum. Felicia put the lotion
in the pocket of her sheepskin overcoat, noticed tiny birds flitting about in the hedgerow.


Its age and height made the hedgerow
strong enough for the gate to be supported by it. Felicia knew it was overdue
for a disciplined trimming. That could wait for spring. The lotion
fell from her pocket as Felicia searched for a fresh cluster of spinach
leaves she had stuffed into her pants pocket to give the llama.
At the gate, the animal pressed eagerly forward, and commenced an eating frenzy.


Dust on the shelves and bric-a-brac, mud on the floor - Felicia gave in to a frenzy
of last-minute cleaning. Outside, from the hedgerow
came the sounds of tiny birds screeching madly. The llama
was nowhere to be seen. Truly, Felicia’s concern that the dusting was overdue
showed how nervous she was. She stopped when she realized the spinach
had not been washed. Perversely, she rubbed her hands with more lotion.


Felicia had stopped in the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen. Lotion
squirted from tube to hand. Felicia gripped the flat end of the tube in her teeth. In a frenzy
of rubbing and slathering her hands, she slowly approached the counter where the fresh spinach
lay. Unaware of her actions, she stared out the window at the hedgerow.
The birds appeared to be in combat with one another, as if their existence was overdue
for a brutal culling of the flock. Quinoa lay beyond the gate. No sign of the llama.


Ignoring the tube in her teeth and the task before her, Felicia realized she need to give the llama
another antibiotic today. With a shudder she came back to herself, and began to wash lotion
from her hands. It dawned on her that she was very keyed up. Maybe she was overdue
for a little time away. It seemed there was little letup from the frenzy
of tending to the house, and the garden, and there was that overgrown hedgerow.
Her hands now free of moisturizer, Felicia began to wash and prepare the spinach.


Now Frank was home, no longer overdue, and Felicia has gotten the antibiotic into the llama.
Frank was pleased with the spinach (Felicia thought she detected the flavor of the lotion).
Strangely, the bird frenzy had continued for hours, out in the overgrown hedgerow.