10/26/10 – Tuesday Topic: Cold Ground
“Do you know how hard it is for me to walk barefoot on cold ground after spending so much time in hell?” Cormac cringed as he tiptoed over the pavement to me. I let his shoes dangle from my fingers and smiled sweetly.
“Less talking, more walking,” I replied. I laughed at every quick intake of agony as his feet pushed down on the winter tempered cement. Real laughter for me had been different for awhile now. It was never belly laughter. I could only muster a slight giggle when I was supposed to. I hated faking laughter but after everything I had seen and experienced it was so hard to fill myself with joy.
However, the schadenfreude of watching an ageless worker of the Devil pad across the street like it was lined with glass pulled out the humorist in me. Some days were really hard. I guess I had bad days before the deal was struck, but it seems so very long ago. When I thought about before, that led to thoughts of the future, and it was very bleak. I didn’t want to think about the years left to my contract.
I used to live in the moment. I wanted to return to that carefree feeling. Father Andrews said I took the weight of the world on my shoulders. Once I realized that I couldn’t tell my therapist everything and the Devil had no sway on holy ground, I’d been going to Church a lot more.