It's an accumulation of the weirdest minutiae. I peek an eye open in the dead of night, and the alarm clock glows a different color. My hand creeps under the sheets and feels empty air. In the predawn gloom I run into the wall, forgetting which layout, which room I should be picturing. No Keurig, here; I brew my own coffee. When I've rinsed out the shampoo and my eyes are closed, I'm pawing at shower wall, where a different control, in a different shower, used to be.
I rub at my eyes and see where the tap truly is. The water drains away.
4 years ago
No comments:
Post a Comment