I don’t know the size of Apathy, if she is a’ obese creature without shape, a thousand-ton, dark blob, plonk down, can’t move. Or if she is a long, skinny, bony shadow lying on the ground. Even if you call she to give she the most delicious meal, she ain’t got the energy to move. For a lifeless creature, she sure spread sheself around though. Every day I encounter somebody that she grab hold of. I feel as though she does try to ketch me too, sometimes.
But I got a secret weapon. I know that the fight against she ain’t physical.
And too besides, I have help, a gene-pool full o' fambly like Ma who used to push she cart with home-made drinks at the race course. Ma, my daddy ma, had 4 chil’ren to mind and a husband who couldn't do a thing for she no more even though he been not far from the race-course. Seeing as how he been lying six feet under, there was no way he coulda do anything for she.
Ma daughter-in-law, my mother, does fill me up with them tales.
Ma used to tell my mother how she push that cart and the sun blaze down, but she wouldn’t quit selling she ice-cold drinks to mind she chil’ren. And that was only one of she self-created employment. She had a li’l cake shop too.
When I feel like Apathy is trying to seize hold o’ me, a picture of Ma pushing that drinks-cart does pop into me mind and Ma does whisper, Keep on, me grand-daughter, keep on.