Thursday, By Sara Spring

Thursday came and went without a trace, but I did.

The tragedy occurred at exactly 1:14 on a Thursday. I hate Thursday’s. That is a day when most of my life happens. At one point, I thought perhaps I was born on a Thursday but then I discovered it was a Monday at 8:24PM.

This tragedy lasted only a moment. But it happened it none the less.

It wasn’t a sudden awakening but rather, a ripple effect. One that never ended and when it encountered other things the new ripple came back.

I’d took the sip, the stench of something clear burned just as the dark. I drowned, feeling like I was swimming and then I was not. I’d faded but not painfully. I saw my father. He smiled. I was happy, back to the simpler times. I felt like I could never escape all those years but then it suddenly occurred, that I had.

The reason for life happening on Thursdays has always been confounding. My first sexual experience, the first day I came home to my adopted family, the first time I got a job and then the day I died.

So goodbye, Miss American Pie. Drove my Chevy to the levy but the levy was dry, saying this will be the day that I die. This will be the day that I die.

“Bye, Bye Miss American Pie. Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry, and them good ole boys were drinkin’ whisky and rye, singing this’ll be the day that I die. This’ll be the day that I die.” – Don Mclean