May 25, 2013
"Sometimes, for a moment, I thought I would be able to do something. Then that moment would pass and I would want to move and not be able to move.
In the country, one day, I had not been able to move. First I had dragged myself around the house and then from the porch to the yard, and then into the garage, when finally my brain spun like a fly. There I stood, over an oil slick. I offered myself reasons for leaving the garage, but no reason was good enough.
Night came, the birds quieted down, the cars stopped going by, everything withdrew into the darkness, and then I moved."
Lydia Davis, from "Therapy"