flooding the house

Three months later

her husband is away at a conference in China

and she is in the bathroom

crouching next to the tub

When she is ready,

she plugs up the drain,

turns on the water,

and turns around to go (leaving the bathroom door ajar as she does)

then she locks herself in the bedroom

to wait

Five days pass

maybe more

until she can no longer bear it

and opens the door

all at once being enveloped right there in the doorway

she closes her eyes

kicks her legs forcefully

so now she is swimming through her hallway

and she thinks how it all reminds her of a shipwreck

she once perused with her dad in Oahu many years before

once in the living room

she can see that some things have sunk to the bottom

the silverware

her books

she can’t hold her breath anymore

and swims up some feet to the surface

emerging beside the handsome wooden crib her husband’s father made for them,

and something her husband allowed her to keep temporarily

despite serious misgivings, he’d said

in the water the crib

becomes a raft

she leans on

until her husband returns.

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