Last night I broke my reading glasses
I heard them drop to the floor with a crack, but I hoped for the best. That’s what I do when things don’t go my way — which is to say, what I’ve been lately doing quite a bit. When I picked them up my finger went through the empty space where the left lens used to be and I was annoyed with myself for letting it happen. (They were peacock blue and recent favorites.) But as I slipped them into the waste bin my anger retreated, disappearing into the grey cloud cover of numbness that has been in my life for days, yet another broken thing that seems beyond my power to mend.