A car pulls onto the road behind us. I try to look back, but I can’t. It’s too much effort. I really want to see, so  I turn my body completely around. The world passes my slowly turning eyes. My neck is fused, ears above my shoulders. I spin as a unit. As a metal playground set, rusted, creaky. My nose pointing straight ahead.

I woke up like this, too many days in a row. Stiff, in pain. A muscle in my back is strained. Maybe from a run, maybe from sleeping wrong, maybe both. It doesn’t matter, it gets worse every day.

“A walk around the block will loosen you up, get your arms swinging, your blood flowing. It’ll make you feel better.”

Unmoored. Adrift. Today unfolding without a plan. My checklist crossed off—no, x’ed out—nothing completed. Nothing started. Waiting for the stiffness to pass. For life to start again.

Untethered.

via Daily Prompt: Unmoored