I can’t take this photograph, you’ll have to form it in your mind.

It’s a photograph of myself in my old padded rocking chair looking scruffy and slumpt down low. My eyes are a bleary and floating loosely in my head. My chair is tan, an obnoxious color with no backbone, and there is the start of a darkening oily spot on the top part where my head rests. That doesn’t bother me though. It’s comfortable to be in my place.

Its late. The kids are finally asleep. In the room Sam escapes life by watching project runway on the TV.  She loves watching the contestants make outrageous clothing that no one could possibly wear. I don’t watch it because Tim Gunn makes me gag.

The three light sources are the flicker of the TV, the 25 watt light bulb in my nightstand lamp and the blue glow of my laptop on my face.

The gentle huff of the heater sounds in the room.

Anyways, back to the photo. I am solidly sitting on the flattened cushion and on my ears are huge, shiny, noise blocking earmuffs. I wear them cause it’s the only way that I can sit in peace while Heidi Klum and the other fashion experts cast their judgement on the “designers”. The earmuffs say Winchester on both cans.

Do you see it? If you do than we have participated in telepathy. The image went from my mind to yours.