In the bathroom the sink counter was littered with crumpled
squeeze tubes and scented bottles -- all in hygienic
disarray. Among this congestion was a fishbowl.
*Down came the rain and washed the spider out...*
The fish bowl had a gravel bottom of pink and blue. Standing askew
in the middle was planted a red phonebooth in miniature. The
colors were muted in the cloudy water. And it smelled a little
rank. To all this, the goldfish was indifferent and floating
upside down.
The bathroom light spilled into the bedroom where Grace sat on
the edge of bed in her underwear.
*Up came the Sun and dried up all the rain...*
On the nightstand the clock radio flipped a digit. It was 9:13
PM. She was painting her toenails best as humanly possible with
her back to the bathroom light, a cigarette dangling from her
lips, and a couple a drinks down. A steady drip tapped from the
bathroom shower.
*And the itsy-bitsy spider...*
With one knee pulled close she evaluated her work. Cherry-red,
they were eight little candies -- going on ten.
*...climbed up the spout again.*
The clock radio flipped another digit. Waving the smoke out of
her eyes she left off with the nails, mashed out the cigarette
in the tray, picked up the phone and dialed.
After two rings she knew going to voicemail was inevitable. After
six rings she would rather hang up. After seven the announcement
was always jarring in it's simplicity. "Hello, you've reached
my voicemail. You know what to do." Beep.
"Hey, I know you're not checking your messages," she said. "It
doesn't matter. I didn't mean all that anyway. I just called
back to say I love you is all. Is that so bad? I want us to be
together, okay."
She leaned in on the phone. "Come on, I hate this answering
machine business." She toned down the intensity a notch to give
herself some headroom then she let him have it full volume. "Look,
I know you're home. Pick up the receiver before I come over
there and flush you down the toilet."
The goldfish in the bowl came back to life and tumbled right
side up. It fluttered around with wide, clear, eyes again --
like magic.
Grace gently hung up the phone and went back to her toenails.
