I walk down the hallway and a random image from the day Constance passed covered my mind. It is a sheet over my present creating an entirely new landscape.
I read an email, and an unkind remark from a college about Constance’s passing fills my mind, and my eyes go blank. I can’t understand another word.
I try to clear my mind about going for a walk. When a driver slams on his car’s breaks to avoid hitting me, I realized I am too distracted for a lackadaisical walk.
I return to staring at my work willing myself to accomplish something, anything.
I decide to have a cry first and then regroup.
I pull myself up and get back to work.