There it goes...

The city circles the basin and washes down this drain. Laid in porcelain. It leads to a place that I’ve never really seen but is all too familiar. I have scrubbed the surrounding tiles too often… or perhaps not enough. Still, I know it well. This drain is home. The spinning water is routine. Simple physics. But this time, it’s taking away the memories my body still wore. The bits I brought with me. The pieces that survived the cab, the plane, the train, the bus and entered my every day, my here, my now.

The subway has been dug from my fingernails. Grit from handrails and metro cards all gone. I’m saddened by the thought that the Magnolia cupcake frosting has made its way out too.

My eyelids have been rubbed free of last night’s mascara. The ‘on the town’ lashes faded to ‘on the face’ smudging overnight. The dark remnants now replaced by an irritated red. A color that’s impossible to avoid with the heat of this water and the vigorous touch of erasure.

The scent from the spa shampoo washed back into my standard Rosemary Mint.

Down the drain my yesterday goes.

I watch it go. I wonder how long my back will carry the results of that massage therapist.

Around it goes. I realize the Broadway tunes are morphing in my ears’ memory. The catchy songs are unsticking or simply can’t be sung.

There it goes. I know tomorrow morning I will wake to the sound of my alarm again. I will open my garage to be reminded of how that new car got there. I will take that drive that I could do with my eyes closed … to work again. And on with life.

I twist the handles to stop the falling water. The last drops cling to each other and head to that place I’ve never seen. There is a silence that I haven’t heard in almost a week’s time. In the quiet I smile and think how happy I am to be able to lose these things. Glad to have had them at all.

I love New York.