We live in a strange world--Margie.

Margie wasn’t feeling well today, so you get this lot instead. She and I met for coffee and fresh cherries (irresistible), but she said she keeps seeing her sister. I asked for more details.

Me: How old is your sister, when you see her?

Margie: She’s going to college, and she’s wearing a jacket she loved, it had dark brown checks and tan checks. Like a chess board, but brown.

Me: What’s your feeling when you see her?

Margie: I’m terrified. She and my mother always yell, and I hate that. 

Me: How did your sister relate to you?

Margie: She was my protector. She would whisper, when they were yelling at each other, “Go to your room, Margie. You don’t need to see this.” I think she regarded me as stupid or defective or something. But I would go when she told me to go.

Me: What would you do when you went to your room?

Margie: I would put a pillow over my head. After a while, I would fall asleep. That’s what I’m doing today. I feel like I can’t keep my eyes open.

Me: Do you want to go home?

Margie: Yes, I’m sorry, I just can’t stay awake. We live in a strange world. 

Me: (Clearing the table, gathering our things) How is it strange?

Margie: Most people don’t get what they need. They could do a lot for each other, but instead they fight over everything. No matter who wins, they still don’t get what they need. I don’t know why I’m so tired, but I need to go home and close my eyes.