She sits in her chair looking out the window
Today is one of those days she feels life is passing her by
She sees people riding their bikes,
The morning walking group
Cars drive by
She gets a text. It’s a neighbor.
Can you take our garbage cans out,
we are headed to Monterey for a few days.
COVID vaccine, get out of jail free card.
But not for her.
She has nowhere to go and no one to go with.
“One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever know”
She had not thought of that Three Dog Night song in years, decades, until now . . .
She used to be half of a couple
Party of two
She is now a party of one
Sometimes the third wheel
The odd man out
Her mind quickly changes course
She stops looking out the window and starts contemplating . . .
What does that even mean, the odd man out?
“Odd” as not an “even” number, not part of a pair, not part of a foursome . . .
One, the loneliest number . . . or is it?
Wouldn’t zero be the loneliest number?
Zero would be nothing.
You would not exist.
If you don’t exist then would you have any feelings?
Would you have any cares?
Then zero isn’t such a bad number, she thought,
The answer to her question wouldn’t zero be the loneliest number is no.
She returns to looking out the window
The line stuck in her head . . .
One is the loneliest number you will ever know . . . .