Praisesong For The Widow

Avey stirs from sleep to the smell of a baby needing to be changed—not because the diaper had been soiled but because the heat of a New York summer caused the diaper to smell foul. She is careful not to wake Jerome as she makes the journey back to the girls’ room. As she is about to pass the living room towards the back bedroom, every light turns on, waking Avey up and bringing her back to reality. She is laying in her hotel room in Granada, the morning sun blaring through her window like the lights in her dream. She lies on her sweat-soaked sheets for a moment, numbly taking in her belongings strewn across the room: the pocketbook, emptied, out on the balcony and her hat, gloves, and clothing crumpled on the floor.

Finally, she slowly began to peel off the clothes she had slept in, unsettled by how realistic the dream felt. Naked, she stares at herself, noticing the bruised look to her nipples. She thinks of her daughter, Annawilda, who she had been trying to reach in the dream. She also thinks of her great-aunt Cuney, who she had fought in her dream just days before.