"In the movie, The Purge, a person with some sense survives by locking themselves in the house and not leaving until morning. So why the heck does someone always...I mean always...get caught on the street far from the safety of their home on purge night. It makes no sense."

Geneva was raging. Raging and not raging were her two states. She was either raging mad about something or simply did not care. Kim hated the raging states and she was desperately thankful they didn't happen often. She tried to explain,

"You know it's a movie, right? If someone didn't get stuck on the street after the curfew, then the credits would be rolling 5 minutes after the movie started."

Geneva wasn't satisfied. "It doesn't make sense," she said. She slapped her hands together on each word.

Kim sighed. She put her hands over her eyes and covered her lips. One deep breath later, she asked, "Neva, what's your point?"

"That is my point. I got no idea what I might lose tonight...hearing, tasting, smelling. Whatever it is, I want to be home when it's gone. Move faster please."

Kim wondered why she asked Geneva to join her, especially on this day of all days. It was annual Appreciation Day, but it was also a Friday. On Fridays Kim visited GiGi. Her great grandmother, GiGi, was the only family she had and she intended to keep every promise to her until the day came when she couldn't. She promised GiGi she would visit every Friday no matter what. .

At 72, GiGi was able to take care of herself better than anyone during Appreciation Day, but Kim was committed to bringing her Friday dinner from Cannibals, an American food restaurant, which carried GiGi's favorite burger. Sometimes she'd bring a burger; sometimes something else. It didn't matter. She just needed to see GiGi's face to know her life wasn't so lonely, even with Geneva as a friend.

It was a shame Appreciation Day was today. She wanted to spend more time with GiGi but Geneva was right. Appreciation Day was a day where, by law and medical intervention, we all lost a sense so we could learn to appreciate the small things in life. Last year, Kim lost touch and put a third-degree burn on her finger. But she couldn't see a doctor until the next morning. That was a miserable night. She didn'tneed Appreciation Day to appreciate all the senses God blessed me with.

We arrived at GiGi's house, with Kim still citing the possible list of things you risked without the sense of taste. "Bananas. I got a bunch. Can't enjoy them tonight if I lose taste. Leftover creme Brule. Might as well throw it out. Water. Forget it. If it has a metalic hint I just have to gobble it down."

"Water has no taste, Neva."

"Yes it does. Iron. It tasts's like iron"

She shook my head and pushed the key into the lock on GiGi's front door. Swinging it open to let Geneva walk through, She called to GiGi. But there was no answer.