846. Ain't No Sunshine Now You're Gone


846. I can't wash my hands without hearing you chiding me, "Wash your hands thoroughly," without thinking of you demonstrating one day how to properly wash one's hands in the bathroom sink. I loved your cleanliness! I can't see a couple holding hands without thinking of us as we walked throughout Manhattan. I can't watch a woman haul her luggage up the subway station stairs without thinking of you lugging everything into our new apartment months before I joined you here in Manhattan. I can't turn on my phone without looking at the photo of you sitting on the sofa, resewing all the buttons on a blouse that you had just bought, because you didn't trust the factory‐sewn buttons to stay on. We used to sit on that sofa and watch the Oscars. We gave the sofa, and lots of other things in our apartment, to a stranger. Now we're strangers. 8.3

    MENU    

846. Copyright © Mike Carlson. All rights reserved. www.eslyes.com