I scrubbed away dried toothpaste scum from the bowl of my sink. I wiped up the pink ring of bacteria from the silver drain. I dusted. I left two nail-long indents on my nose from pinching out a blackhead. I turned on jazz music to fill the room and switched to laying on my left side so I could keep reading and face away from the window, grey becoming navy outside, and I’ll be slipping out of another day soon.
A day that could be lost to time
