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Illuminata
- University of South Carolina Press
- Chapter
- Additional Information
80 Illuminata Day One On the first day of chemo unexplained gifts appear on the doormat— lavender soap wrapped in tissue paper, a thick bar of dark chocolate and a quartz sparkled rock to keep you earthbound. Day Two The saints must be busy today. That’s okay. You watch patterns of sunlight slide across your bedroom wall. The dog sleeps on top of your bed and watches you carefully. Day Three Dried leaves in a pile woven together by spider webs on the brick steps have no meaning. But they hold your attention for too long. Sleep now, and wait for something green to appear. 81 Day Four Late last night, your sister phoned. You don’t ask what took her so long, because her voice is the one that answers in dreams. It is the flame singing through the longest night. Day Five Sunflowers tied with yellow velvet ribbon greet you when you open the front door. Peaches in a brown bag, a box of pastries tied with a string, and bowl full of tomatoes. The note is from a neighbor you hardly know. Day Six New copies of people and vogue stacked beneath a bottle of bright pink nail polish the sticky note attached—“Something to do!” “2 DVD’s that will make you laugh— “Pink Panther” and “A Fish Called Wanda.” Day Seven After smoking the joint that was hidden in an envelope labeled just in case, you look up the word grace in the dictionary. “Thank you for the gifts,” you write, “I feel like a Saint has visited my doorstep.” ...