I lie on my back and pull my knee to my chest in what is traditionally called pavanamuktasana, or "wind relieving pose," and mutter to myself.
"And it's not like I like you anyway," I say to the empty room, to a person who slighted me years ago whom I haven't seen since. The early morning gray light that fills the room seems grim and oppressive.
I struggle to feel the air, my body, the world around me, instead of wasting this moment on someone who probably wouldn't remember my name if we met on the street, and who doesn't like me anyway.
No comments:
Post a Comment