And what is this fainting business?

He didn’t feel right, he told me afterwards. I’m talking about several weeks ago. Around the corner from him, in the kitchen, I missed it. He went to stand up, he said, but he sat back down. Then his head must’ve laid itself down on the desk. When he came to he felt a little sick.

The other time, how long ago, early morning, I saw it happen. He’d just taken his raisins? peanuts? from the pantry. Crossing back toward the sink, he grabbed for the counter, or maybe the drawer knob. I watched him buckle and pitch lightly—sort of roll—onto the floor, on his back.

He lay there dead, except not dead, because he was still breathing. I got down beside him and tried to wake him. It was awful. It wasn’t like he was having a snooze. Then his eyelids flapped and the swarthiness and heat came back into his face.

The at-the-desk episode, at least he resurrected himself.

After he told our daughter about it she emailed a link to a crazy goats video.

Jennifer: Mom, John says you’ve gotta stop scaring Dad. 😂 https://www.youtube.com/shorts/8aw_KrYR_nY

Me: Hahaha. But who’s scaring who?

Jennifer: Mom’s scaring Dad, obvs, because he’s the one fainting!

Me: No, he scared me. Fainting people are just taking naps.

Jennifer: Not according to the goats.

Whatever.

Anyhow, those are some pretty strange animals. Look at how distended. Belly up, bloated, stiff legs to the sky. The things people do. Since when is this somebody’s hobby?

 





 

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