8

M was gone when I woke up. I had slept like a wall had been pulled down on top of me. Slept like I’d never not slept. I woke up and was a different person, someone who was definitely capable of moving through the day, of taking care of B and E, of sitting by the pump for hours smiling happily, of never wanting for any amount of time even for a single second to run away screaming from wherever I was, whatever I was doing. I had slept all night in the same bed as M. I wondered if we had touched, if we had drifted toward each other in some hour or other, if he had put his leg over mine, or me his. Surely such a thing was possible.

There was a note beside me on the side table but the ink was smudged. Be back late, it might have said. Or, I love you the same as always no matter what. Shoes? it might have said. WTF? it might have said. It could have easily said that. I could have called him and asked him, only he would be in meetings all day, and I hated to interrupt. Also, I had ruined his shoes. Of course I had, and the day, the real day as it would be and not my imagining of it, began to settle down on top of me like some great bird landing on my shoulders with all its unnatural weight.

The apartment smelled of dog shit. I opened the window in the living room and saw the concierge scrubbing at a line of brown stains, footprints on the concrete walk. He had hauled out steaming water, buckets of rags, telescopic mop handles and scrubbers of various sizes, the works. The footsteps as he cleaned them would lead, I knew, down the walk and into the building and straight to the door of the apartment. There would be no denying anything.

I wouldn’t be able to leave. We would have to hide all day inside where we could never be found. I almost couldn’t breathe, the smell was really horrendous, seeping into all the fibres and fabrics, the sheets, the curtains. How had I forgotten about it all while I’d slept?

Perhaps it was possible to construct a new world out of a smaller space, a whole world out of less. Perhaps it was possible to create a world that was less connected to other things. To make the apartment into a meteor: fast moving and unassailable. I lowered the aluminium shutters and shut out the concierge. Winked him out as fast as blinking.

The apartment was dark now, but cosy. A cave for us. We could play bears all morning. E would love it, we could have so many good hours like that, growling at each other, pawing at the rental-company sofa with our so big paws. I could smile so wide when we played, wide like I might tear my face at the corners and show the whites of my eyes and it would be OK because it would be part of a game. When E got tired of being a bear I would shout, Now we are underwater, now we are secret underwater things.