Back of neck collapsed and chin jutting towards the monitor.
I remember looking in the mirror this morning, correcting a rounded back with an imaginary Alexander teacher gently pulling my head towards the ceiling and my shoulders back and down.
Two inches taller then, I´ve shrunk back into the land of bad posture.
The small glass bottle fits perfectly in my palm. A golden lid between me and my drink.
Unfiltered juice, sediment at the bottom.
A gentle shake before I twist it open.
Seems the waiter beat me to it and the nectar flies across the restaurant.
Oops.
The scenic route to work takes
ALL OF
two extra minutes.
Still can´t believe I´ve moved to the beach.
Insta-calm, a (long) stone´s throw from my flat.
A load of fresh laundry hangs limp
on the drying rack,
the world’s largest air freshener.
The scent of unfamiliar detergent
triggering vaguely familiar memories
of of a space that can’t be placed.
I close my eyes,
trying to retrace
the laundromat of my mind.
Stuck in a spin cycle.
First cooked meal in a new flat, leftovers put away and kitchen cleaned.
New pots and pans, new recipe, new habits, new year.
Baby steps to nesting.
Big and empty and needs to be unpacked.
Too tired to work, but can’t fall asleep.
My body near a beach in Barcelona,
Ny mind still foggy from
Escape from Coldmageddon.
Recycled air fuels recycled memories.
It’s a brand new flight,
but I feel like I’ve been on this plane ride before.
Unexpected smiles inviting
Unexpected conversations provoking
Unexpected meals yielding
Unexpected pleasures
Lost in a city that used to be home
Surrounded by strangers that used to be friends
Dipping my toe into the sea of “what-if”
Content to stay on the shores of the present
Dozens of paper snowflakes hanging overhead.
Cloned to perfection, belying the “no-two-exactly alike” traits of their Herculean cousins who are heading in to storm the city.