CHAPTER 72 Our Days Are Numbered

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copyright 2015 Chris Smith All rights reserved.

It was day twenty-four of The Eye Watch. And it was day number forty seven of the total number of days we've been dealing with Evictions and moving our stuff from house to house. It was tiring. The whole thing was tiring. I wanted it to be over. The time was dragging on. It was slowly killing our spirits.

Some days I didn't know how I would make it through. Most days I didn't know. I wanted to somehow transport myself to another life, a better life. But I knew it doesn't work that way. No matter how hard it gets, somehow, you have to find a way to move through it. You find a way, or you give up. I couldn't give up. Not now. Not with all we'd been through.

The night before had been a great night for my eye. It looked pretty clear in the evening, which is normally the time when it's had enough of being open. It was the first night in so long I didn't have to get up with in the middle of the night and do the hot compresses. The eye was making the turn into healing!

Mom and Dad left early in the morning for a day full of festivities honoring Memorial Day that Dad was helping put on. He took his computer with him so he could get on the internet in between breaks.

Dad felt guided to send a package of his bio, the letter of approval from the veteran's organization to collect their member's stories on video, and the news article to an old friend of ours, Henry. He was optimistic about contacting Henry.

Maybe Henry could help us?

It may be late in the game to expect any help. But if you don't keep trying and reaching out, you'll never know. It was never too late to ask for help. And it should never be too late to hope for your Dream and expect miracles!

When they returned home later that day they both were in a good mood. Dad said he barely had time to check his emails with all that he had going on with the Memorial Day event. But he was able to send out his email to Henry. Now we could only wait.

I decided we should do laundry that night. Something about having clean laundry that made the world a little more sane. So I got all my laundry together and grabbed their load of laundry and headed up to my old laundry room at my old home, the Cabin. I was pretty thankful to have a laundry room that couldn't be locked. Otherwise I'd be out of luck doing laundry without going to town.

I did some chores and then it was time to go put the clothes in the dryer. Evening had set. It was starting to get dark. I knew I should have taken my flashlight but I had walked out the door without it. I was fearless. I knew the road and it would only take a few minutes to walk up to the Cabin and back. But I hadn't factored in the eye infection, which made seeing in the dark harder. My depth of field was way off too.

As I walked up the old road by the Main House to the Cabin, I heard something in the dark. I veered towards the left side of the dirt road. Then I heard a couple of things moving around in the darkness with me. I had bumped into one of them, whoever they were.

I jumped back in shock!

What the hell did I bump into?!

I was like a sitting duck with poor eyesight from the infection. Then the smell hit me. Stinky bomb! Yuck!

My whole body went straight into freak out mode! I started a dead run back down the road to the Main House like something was after me and whatever was on me had kooties! My arms were flailing about as I ran!

"They got me! They got me!" I said as I ran inside the Main House yelling at the top of my lungs!

My thoughts were firing off in alarm. I couldn't get anything else in my eye! I couldn't have my eye get any worse! If anything else got into my eye I would be so upset! The eye would go on strike forever and would never heal! Fucking hell!

"What?" Dad yelled from their bedroom.

"They got me!" I yelled back at him as I dashed up the narrow stairs, like I was on fire, heading for my bathroom.

"Who did?" Dad asked.

"The little shits got me!"


"The skunks!" I said as I started furiously washing off my legs, my arms, and my face.

"They did?" Dad asked in an inquisitive tone.

I could tell by his tone he thought it was funny. I didn't think it was funny at all!

"Yes!" I yelled.

I was a half naked woman standing in a tiny bathroom throwing off clothes and feverishly washing parts of my body numerous times in the sink. I must have washed off my body two or three times. It was a little funny. Well, it was kind of funny. I gathered my stinky clothes so I could wash them before tomorrow morning. I guess I would be doing another load of laundry tonight. Wonderful for me. Not.

"When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me."

Erma Bombeck

American Humorist & Author


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