After the drama of the ruined fruit, after the decimation of my apartment, after being exiled from my exile – sent out from my apartment, homeless for a day with my dog, after all of that, I needed this.

A hot bath, much too hot, and enjoyed for far too long. A steaming cup of coffee, right now, right in front of me, not because I’m tired, just because. I unplugged the phone. Nobody calls but I did it just in case, and more as a symbolic gesture than anything else. Candles for lights – primarily because my drapes and curtains no longer work and my apartment is entirely open on one side. As I sweat and move furniture and stub my toe and swear, I’ve been theater for the voyeurs in the apartments across the street.

A moment’s silence. No TV. No music. Just quiet. Only the sound of bath water, the sound I make when I slide down, in, and under, the water. Murphy sits beside the tub looking at me askance.

After the bath, Murphy rediscovers the couch. She looks at me, perhaps just a little nervously, perhaps worried her life will be horribly disrupted again. Not if I can help it. Towel-dried, I lie on top of her, mostly to hear that delicious noise she makes. That happy grrh. I am not quite but nearly restored. I horde the silence.

SS