for the second time
in less than a
week there was
no towel waiting
for me when
i got out of
the shower.
why?
because i left the
damn thing hanging
on the door knob
in my bedroom.
first instinct,
still,
13+ months after
she
died was to yell,
“hey liz! can you please bring me a towel?”
fuck.
when does that
go away?
the fact that
i left my towels
all over the house
really used
to piss
liz
off, and i can
still here yelling
from the other room,
“no. sorry! you’ll have to air-dry! this is what happens when you don’t return your towel to the bathroom after your shower.”
she always ended
up bringing me
a towel, but
she always made
me suffer before
doing so.
…
instead of
getting a towel
delivered to me
by my wife,
i shook
myself like a
wet dog,
and made my
way to the linen
closet where i
found a towel.