It doesn’t seem fair that Harvey is gone.  The disappearing act was claimed and patented by me.  I’m the known itinerant, passing through town like a curious and inevitably uninterested wind.  He stole my move.  At the very least he could have waited for me to leave first.  Without Harvey around, this time there won’t be anyone to watch me go.

            This morning I walked around the house in my underwear and moccasins.  It was cold, but for some reason the chill felt relieving like a long anticipated punishment finally arrived.  The snow outside the window glared brightly under the sun.  My eyes ached, even when they were closed.  Once I had my tea in front of me, I considered looking for jobs on Craigslist, but the Internet was fritzing and no matter what I tried, the problem couldn’t be circumvented.  I let my head slump onto the table.  Mousy thoughts nibbled at my mind, preventing me from falling asleep, until I awoke suddenly to a truckload of snow sliding off our corrugated roof.  Whoomp.  The noise shocked me like a mother's slap, and I jumped up, feeling as if I had been injected with motivation.  Within an hour I was on my way out the door, backpack bursting, heading toward the little hut in the woods.