She’s just like you and me…

by Caitlin

 

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The glass drops from my hand. I was sure I had it securely. With all the certainty of my grip and intention, the glass smashed. Strange what the immediate, embodied world can embolden. As the water was quickly mopped up,  all traces of error was removed from the bedroom floor, I could not turn around to face the man in my bed. And so, with handfuls of damp towels I walked to the window and threw them out into a still and frozen night. The littering falling towels scattered as if white embers departed from the place where we slept .

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