Ephemeral
I found myself in bed, listening to the sound of my alarm. Its incessant beeping meant hours had passed without me ever having recollection of that time. Sometimes, I would remember a fragment of a dream only to have it wisp away as I tried to hold onto it.
7:30 as usual.
I slapped the alarm and rolled to the other side.
I found my arms wrapping around her body. The ephemeral fragrance of her black hair etherized my senses. I closed my eyes and wanted to lull back to sleep with my arms wrapped around her. They say if you hold onto something you cherish, you dream only good dreams.
“Hank?” her voice whispered with waking vibrato.
I didn’t answer.
“Get out,” it returned to that pitch I knew so well. “Stop being lazy. Your snooze is going to go off in a bit if you don’t get up, and I can’t really take that sound at this forsaken hour.”
“And what will you do all day?”
“Sleep. Whereas you should be going to work, lazybones.”
I took one last deep breath, and I rose from the bed.
I took a shower in our bathroom. I used the bar of soap she bought, and I thought about how years before, she would have bought a different shaped bar of a different brand. We were different, but nothing had really changed. Nothing important. I dried myself and walked into our closet. Years before, my side would have been monochrome – white shirts and black jeans. Now, there were more colors – even some grids and stripes. But today, I felt like what I wore all those years ago. I felt young. I wore a white shirt and black jeans. I found a grey hooded jacket. And I found the red tie she had given me years before. The patch was still on it – faded from overuse. No toque though. The toque, well, that’s another story.
As I was leaving, I saw her still lying in bed. She wouldn’t have to work for another two hours. So I walked over to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
She rolled away from me.
I turned.
Her arm wrapped around my neck, and she pulled me down. Her lips locked on mine. My eyes closed. I could smell the sweet fragrance of her hair, and I felt like I was dreaming.
Text and Images © Jonathan Lee
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