The doorbell rings.
I set down my yellow notepad, take off my headphones, and I open the door.
I don't look to see who it is.
Because I already know,
it's the same doorbell with every press,
but her finger has a certain ring to it.
Doors open and in a moment a wave floods through my door,
Like an arroyo being filled with rain.
I let the waters rise.
with each wave that washes over me,
I hear the tiny detests,
the painful memories,
the has beens,
and should haves.
the would haves.
the debris in the water never bothered me,
in fact
I kind of liked the way it bumped up against me and I got to be the one to look at it,
pick it up and make sense of it,
figure out what it use to be a part of and how it got there.
The waterway that rushed in, covers me completely now
and I hold my breath, open my eyes and start to swim.
My hair is floating about enjoying the lack of gravity,
my clothes are heavy but my strength is still sturdy.
I wade and listen to the waters,
listening until they've calmed
and proceed to exit through the same door they came in through.
The waters gone, but everything's wet.
My clothes cling to me like I am all that exists.
I play in the puddles as I hear the door close,
Look for my notepad but realise it was lost in the waters.
_____________________________________________________________________
I leave my now sodden house I used to call my home, and I walk up to her door.
_____________________________________________________________________
I ring the doorbell,
and no one answers.
A double-standard Doorbell.
