I notice a hole in the hardwood floor, a gap to the space below, rooms with light coming up– and then I see more holes, scattered, worn by walking– and it occurs to me, viscerally, that this floor is undependable. I try to imagine a way I might fix it– and there’s even a guy downstairs who might do it for me– but really I’m leaving this place, so I don’t much care.
there’s a channel of cool fresh water outside, and my friend and I go to swim in it– it’s like a living snapshot of a river, just this little piece framed by concrete and then the rest flowing in and away at either end and out of sight– all we can see is what’s right here, bright and clear and in motion. I say, I’ll bet it would be good for lap swimming— and my friend gets right in and goes to work swimming against the current– which is strong, and she struggles. and me? all I want is to get in and ride that current away.