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11 June 1989, Morning
Jun. 11th, 2010 04:40 pmWhen Meg got back from the hospital on Saturday evening, she found her suitcase sitting at the foot of her bed in the hotel room.
It was almost surreal to open it, to find all her things still neatly folded and arranged just so, from when she packed it in what now feels like a previous lifetime. She half-expects things to be jumbled, since the suitcase went through the same car crash she did.
It's oddly comforting to find that it looks just as it did when Alain put it in the trunk of his car in her parents' driveway. And there is something reassuring about having her own clothes back. It feels slightly more normal.
Sunday morning, she picks a green dress and a white sweater, leaves off the sling, and goes down to the breakfast in the hotel's lobby early, feeling more like herself than she has in about three days.
It was almost surreal to open it, to find all her things still neatly folded and arranged just so, from when she packed it in what now feels like a previous lifetime. She half-expects things to be jumbled, since the suitcase went through the same car crash she did.
It's oddly comforting to find that it looks just as it did when Alain put it in the trunk of his car in her parents' driveway. And there is something reassuring about having her own clothes back. It feels slightly more normal.
Sunday morning, she picks a green dress and a white sweater, leaves off the sling, and goes down to the breakfast in the hotel's lobby early, feeling more like herself than she has in about three days.
