The First Haiku

Since I live alone

When I fall in the bathtub

Who will hear me scream.

This was the first single lady haiku. I was having my bi-annual conversation with my friend Wendy about dying alone. This one was precipitated by the serious fall of another single lady of a certain age. Surprisingly, dying alone is a regular conversation topic for single ladies of the aforementioned “certain age.”

But it’s usually not all that morbid of a discussion. We laugh about the ways we might die: slip and fall in the tub; choking on something we shouldn’t have been eating in the first place; quietly in our sleep, fully clothed and ethereally beautiful (as if). Wendy has cats so there’s often mention of how much they’ll miss her and the shrine (buffet) they will make of her.

There’s a good chance I will die alone. Hell, we all do really. That’s not what we single ladies fear. We fear surviving and being a burden. We fear our families coming to clear our homes and finding out all of our secrets. But luckily, we have each other.

I know that if I break something, my other single lady friends will cart my busted ass around. And if I do die, they will swoop down on my place like the CIA and clear it like I was hoarding state secrets.

And if I fall in the bathtub, and drag my naked, wet ass to the phone…I’ll probably call one of the single ladies before 911. I’m gonna need a robe.

Standard

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