You can read Frozen – Part 1 here.
She walked to the bedroom and opened her dresser. She pulled out a clean, white pair of underwear and tried to put them on, while standing on one leg. She found that her balance was not quite returned, and so she sat on the edge of her bed as she dressed.
As she reached back to fasten her bra, she felt an ache in her shoulder. Makes sense, she thought.
She put on a pair of sweatpants, a too-large Harvard sweatshirt she had pilfered from a college fling, and a thick pair of wool socks. She went back to the bathroom, hung her towel, and looked at herself in the mirror again.
She turned her face to the left and to the right. She put her hands on her cheeks. The same. She couldn’t take her eyes off of her reflection, unsure of how she could look exactly the same as she did this morning when she was so fundamentally changed.
She stared at herself until her stomach growled, shaking her from her reverie. She turned off the lights and walked the kitchen. She went to the stove and turned on the tea kettle, opened her tea cannister and selected a decaf tea bag, and set it in her favorite mug. She then went to the breadbox and selected a bagel, and pulled out a kitchen knife. She turned it over in her hand, looking at the dull blade and muttered, “This just won’t do.”
She went back to the pantry and moved aside the cereal boxes. On the very back of the shelf, she found a dishtowel. She pulled it out and walked over to the table. She placed it, gently, on the table, and sat down. Slowly, carefully, she began to open up the towel. Inside, lay a bread knife. The sharp, serrated edge glinted in the low light. She picked it up, turned it from side to side. She ran her finger along the blade, then, unconsciously, put her fingers to her neck.
She stood, walked to the counter, bread knife and towel in hand. She placed the towel on the counter and picked up the bagel. Cautiously, she put blade to bread and began to saw back and forth. When the bagel was in two, she wiped the blade with the towel, turned to the knife block and slid it into it’s home.
Still fits.
Once she put the two halves of the bagel in the toaster, she sat on the floor, drew her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and began to rock.
To rock and to finally allow herself to remember.
