Member-only story
Renovation
They are
gutting
our bathroom,
hauling out the tub where
I bathed you both
for years,
watched with eagle eyes so you
might not
slip under,
made mohawks in your hair from
white foam,
moved toy dinosaur
across ledge
growling, “rawr, rawr, rawr,”
soaked my sleeves to my
elbows.
They are gutting our bathroom,
trashing the sink where
I taught you to brush and
floss, running waxed string through
your teeth
like
time,
ripping up the floor
to put new Italian tile down,
white squares with
pretty blue-black swirls that
I only just noticed look like
fallopian tubes.
They are gutting our bathroom,
hauling out the tub
through your open bedroom window
for ease.
They are tearing down the walls,
yanking toilets,
closing up the leaky skylight,
the whole house trembling with
destruction.
There goes the tub,
the sink,
the toilet,
out through the open
window
in your bedroom.
Breathe.
(you were already gone).
____
Gae is the author of several novels for readers of all ages, though shelved as tween and young adult. You can read more about her and her books at gaepolisner.com
