Monday, July 21, 2008

There is a window above the kitchen sink. It looks out at sidewalk, street, sidewalk, and then another apartment building, a mirror image, the perfect reflection.

I turned on the water, the daily chore of dishes at hand, and I stared out the window.

It was dark. A single buzzing street light cast its dull white glow on pavement and foreign trees.

But then they came.

Two figures. They stood there, under a buzzing street light. They held each other, and even though they were in the middle of the street, the center of the mirror, surrounded by sheer darkness, they were safe. They were content.

They were happy.

And lights seemed brighter. Whites were whiter, the darkness was less absolute, and it all emanated from two figures, who seemed so much more like one in the fluorescence or phosphorescence or whatever other essence that lit the dank tiles of the kitchen sink.

But lights made it all seem so much farther away.

Me? I still had two forks and a plate to wash.

So I shut the blinds.

And the walls were never thicker.

1 comment:

Priscilla said...

this and your livejournal blog inspired my own