Obfuscation, lack of clarity, omission, absence, distance and the glossing over of all of the above. Hazel was having one of those days where it seemed she was an alien in a foreign land where commjnication was impossible and nobody seemed to connect. She tried to warn the cleaning lady that she was upset about paying a lot for a little, and ended up talijng about how makeup tends to clog your pores. Lunch wit an old "friend" was lacking any connection - no acknowledgement of time past and the events they had missed. Phone calls to people providing services were unclear and connections were hazy. The narcissism of seemingly every person (herself included, she acknowledged...) was overwhelming. where were the connections? Did anyone care enough about other people to look past their own noses? And, was it too much to ask that the the death of a mother-in-law be mentioned and sympathy expressed over a luncheon salad? It had been a while, but this was the first time they had seen each other since all that crazy. Really - it was impolite to dwell, but Hazel felt it worse to ignore. Was Samantha really that uncaring, or was she just too obsessed with her own issues to realize how hurtful she was being? Nothing connected. Hazel felt deaf. Alone. Ina bubble of observation without contact.
Until - darling Max called. He understood, and she understood him. And there was that connection she had been missing all day. Everything was made better now. The phone call, and a few olives and a glass of wine...And a little James Joyce, as weird as that sounded. A peace entered her bubble, and it no longer mattered who else she connected with. And the babble of the disconnected ceased to exist.
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