My Heart

Some days my feet are light
And I dance as if on air
Other days they’re heavy
As I trudge a path of despair

While in my lows, I wallow
Yet my highs can touch the stars
But whether in joy or sadness
My heart is wherever you are

A short poem ~ by Meg Sorick

Just a note; this is hyperbole, lest you all think I’m suffering from bipolar disorder.

Small Cuts (18) Elaine

To find links to all parts of this story, please visit the Small Cuts Page. Here is Elaine:

I moved on autopilot. My life for the last two weeks had seemed like a film in which I was merely a supporting actor. I left decisions up to James’ family, my family. I was still out of work, told to take all the time that I needed. I was numb, disconnected, wanting to wake up from this nightmare. Mom and Dad came to stay with me right after the accident up to the day after the funeral. All the commotion and chaos keeps you from fully realizing the loss. Once everyone had gone, all that remained was wilting flowers, leftover casseroles and the echoes of cliched condolences. And Oliver.

It was the first night I was alone that the story of James’ connection to Genevieve made the six o’clock broadcast. Must have been a slow news day in Philadelphia. How on earth had that bit of information got out? It had been bad enough dealing with James’ death and Gen’s grave condition without having reporters asking us to bear our guilt in front of the cameras. It was hideous. Wait, did I say guilt? I meant grief. Oh, god….

It was true, it was true. This was all because of us—Oliver and me. Somehow James and Gen must have figured it out. I needed to talk to Oliver. He was the only one I could really talk to now. He had maintained a discreet and appropriate manner when we were in public—just close enough to be the grieving friend. Add Genevieve’s condition to the situation, and he was very much the sympathetic character. Whenever we found ourselves alone, however, his true feelings were apparent. He loved me, he still wanted to be with me, even though things had gone so terribly wrong. In my emotional state, I found myself leaning on him. I picked up my phone and called.

At first Oliver tried to find other explanations, but that was just wishful thinking. He eventually admitted that James had probably seen him drive by our house and had likely followed him into the city. Then, he told me after Genevieve’s things were retrieved from the wreck of her car, he discovered that she had the address of the Park Hotel entered into the GPS on her phone. That was the final proof if you asked me. I had dropped the phone and run to the bathroom to throw up. I heaved and heaved until there was nothing left. Now my body felt as empty as my heart. I slumped against the toilet and wept. That’s where Oliver found me.

“Baby, here, let me help you,” he said, lifting me into his arms. I was too weak to resist. He carried me from the bathroom to my bedroom and laid me on top of the covers. Then, sitting on the edge, brushed my hair from my face.

“He’s dead because of me. This my fault,” I said. I grabbed Oliver’s wrist as he reached again to touch my cheek. “We killed him, Oliver. And we nearly killed Gen, too.”

Small Cuts (17) James

To find links to all parts of this story, please visit the Small Cuts Page. Here is more about James:

Jessica Dean: Finally tonight on Eyewitness News at 6:00, a follow up on the fatal accident that happened on the Vine Street Expressway last Sunday morning. The crash left one person dead and another in critical condition. There is an added layer of tragedy to the story, however.

Ukee Washington: That’s right, Jessica. It turns out the two drivers knew each other. In fact, the male driver who was killed was the best friend of the female driver’s husband. James McAvoy, thirty-six of Bucks County, was attempting to merge onto the eastbound Vine Street Expressway in heavy traffic when, according to witnesses, the vehicle driven by Genevieve Sinclair, also of Bucks County, suddenly changed lanes and struck the other car on the driver’s side. Mr. McAvoy was pronounced dead at the scene. Mrs. Sinclair remains in a coma and in critical condition.

Jessica Dean: Oliver Sinclair, Genevieve’s husband, had met James McAvoy in college. The two remained close ever since. They had been best man for each other at both of their weddings, the two couples often vacationed together and according to their spouses, had just had dinner together the evening before. Neither James nor Genevieve was supposed to be on that road that day. According to Mr. Sinclair, his wife Genevieve had no plans to be in the city that morning, but must have decided after he left. He could only speculate on her reasons for coming. “She liked to visit the art museum. She often came alone so she could take her time,” he told reporters.

Mrs. Elaine McAvoy told us her husband was supposed to be on his way to a golf outing sponsored by the law firm he works for. Mrs. McAvoy says his detour into the city must have been to stop at his office for some reason. His colleagues at Fletcher, Sunderland and Roth couldn’t shed any light on the matter. It seems fate dealt the two couples a cruel hand. The funeral arrangements for James McAvoy will be held privately, but donations can be made in his name to the Philadelphia Legal Aid Fund —a cause he supported as a lawyer in the city.

Ukee Washington: Mm mm… What a terrible tragedy. Our hearts go out to the families.

***

I have used the real names of the evening news anchors at Philadelphia’s CBS affiliate Channel 3. I have done this without their knowledge or permission. I hope they don’t mind! When and if I publish or submit to another media outlet, names and other existing entities will be changed.