I woke up on the couch. The cat fell asleep on my chest again. I sit up as if it wasn't there. Socks jumps away looking back in confusion. My deep purple oversized Oxford, untucked, loose and airy, is completely covered in dander. I pat it down ridding myself of as much of it as possible. I button my fitted Levis. Fix my cuffs. Slip on my loafers and straighten the pennies in them so that Lincoln is upright. I make my way to the kitchen and start the coffee maker. It hisses and gurgles like a tar pit, it's primal sludge Leaking into the glass pot. I pull the pot away before it's completely done percolating letting a few drops land on the hot plate. The tiniest poof of aromatic steam rising. I drink it black with a teaspoon of sugar.
Socks is on the counter sniffing around. He's hungry.
I go into the broom closet where they keep the cat food and fill his bowl. The pebbles of kibble turning the polished aluminum into a zen bell. Spring was entering through the kitchen window, calling me to it.
I finish my coffee and go outside. In front of the house there is a large magnolia tree reaching out of one of those squares of soil that interrupt the sidewalk in residential areas of the city, it's roots warping the walkway, cracking it, puffing up through the broken parts of the path. A line of ants following the exposed root, carrying orangey BBQ potato chip crumbs into it's base diligently. Its branches and flowers forming the most pleasant aromatic canopy. I sit on the stoop in the morning quiet, everyone else still sleeping. I light a smoke. The roll and spark of my lighter seems loud in the morning when it doesn't have to compete with all of the other sounds of the day.
I start to think about the events of the night before.
About Joanne, about the way she drunkenly poured herself all over that married man. I felt worried for her. I also felt annoyed that she did these kinds of things for attention. Possibly more annoyed than I should have been but she was brilliant kind and generous. It made her look like a silly tart. It frustrated me. I take one last long deep puff and chuck the rest of my cigarette into the street. The magic of the morning tainted by my thoughts. I could never just be in the moment. My mind had to swim around in whatever nonsense had transpired.
I felt disappointed in myself, disappointed that I let these thoughts ruin the lovely ant parade and crosshatched magnolia sky. I needed to get away.
