behind me. I’m not really sure that I
can. I’ve turned the page, my last,
but it stays on top of me. Like a
sumo wrestler, or the burden of
being a lousy person. A
hiccup of sirens becomes
laughter. Later, we go shopping
so that we can dress to the nines
at the office holiday party. Which
will take place at the city hall.
But currently I’m in the cubby-
hole between the bookshelf
and the old chest of drawers
that I’ll soon replace with a
big white vanity from Ikea
which I will put together (sur-
prise!) one very long night
while Otto vacations in China
to get him back for painting
the living room and hallway
while I was in Hong Kong.
I love it now (ocean blue
over the tea green—
surprise!), but I went
into mourning for a
week, having never
been allowed a proper
fare thee well to the
green walls I’d
lived with for
over five years.
Well. Out with
the old. In
with the
new.
There. I
think I lost it
for a moment,
that bitter echo
I’ve tried to trap
between my lap
and this notebook.
I don’t much like
absolute endings.
Let’s hope I stay
lost forever.
