Strangers and Shadows Read Online Free Page B

with her.  I don’t like to talk about it with people, and I’ve just now gotten to the point where I can go to sleep without crying myself there.  Anyway... the point of all this:  my therapist told me to keep a journal.  To just start writing, like it’s gonna solve all of the world’s problems, and mine included... my job, my dead wife, who I refuse to let go of, my house payments that I can’t afford, my church that tells me that it’s God’s will but secretly thinks I must have sinned badly for God to take my wife...  So, I figured, what the hell, and here I am... writing.
     
    September 3
    — My boss wrote me up again today for being late.  I told him there was an accident on the way to work and that it backed up traffic for three miles.  So what if I did lie to him? There was an accident in the opposite lane going the other way and traffic was backed up for a mile or so.
    Jill couldn’t find her blue socks to wear this morning and she wouldn’t get on the bus without them.  I threatened punishment if she didn’t just wear another pair and get on the school bus, but then she started bawling (is that how you spell it?) and told me that all the other girls had socks that matched their dresses and they laughed at her and she wasn’t going to school if nobody liked her and nobody would like her if she wasn’t wearing blue socks.  I tried to explain to her that this was ridiculous.  That kids would like her for who she was, not what she wore, and the way to get friends is to be a friend.  She started crying all over again, and who was I kidding...  I remembered what it was like in school growing up.  It was all about who had what comic book or lunch box or PF Flyers.  Wow, I’m getting old, kids haven’t worn those shoes for ages, although I have seen quite a few kids wearing the old All-Stars... anyway, maybe she had a valid point.  Hell, most of my relationships are still based on income and family and appearance.
    So , she missed the bus, we finally found her blue socks, and I drove her to school.  With all of the morning’s drama I was still only twenty minutes late to work.  My boss, Steve, didn’t care.  It was company time, he said.  If I didn’t think it was worth my time then maybe I didn’t need to come back tomorrow, and blah, blah, blah.
    Son of a bitch...  That’s what Steve is.  I wish he had kids so he could see how hard it is, especially trying to raise them on your own.
    I told him that I’d work through lunch to make up for it, but he still grumbled on about it... a nice black eye... That’s what Steve needs, and I’d love to be the one to give it to him.
    I have another meeting with Jody later tonight.  I haven’t really seen any progress in therapy yet, but it’s only been a couple of weeks, and Jody’s pretty cute.  She’s around my age...who knows.
    God, I can’t even believe I’m thinking about this.  The last thing I have time for in my life right now is a relationship, especially one with my shrink.  Well, I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow... you handsome devil, you.
     
    September 4
    — When I got into work today, everybody was talking about Steve.  Apparently when he found out that his wife was pregnant with twins, he fainted and hit his eye on the corner of the sofa... so there is a God!!!
     
    September 8
    — Charlie told me the most wonderful tale today...at least I think it was a tale.  I was getting breakfast ready when Charlie came running down the stairs yelling “Dad, Dad, Dad!”
    I asked him what was going on and he said, “Dad! Some people came out of my closet last night!”
    “Really?” I asked.  Charlie has had an active imagination ever since his mom died when he was seven.  Jody says that it’s normal behavior for grief and that it would go away in time, but some of the stories Charlie comes up with are straight out of Alice’s Wonderland.  Maybe I should write them all down and publish a new kind of children’s