She is letting me into her home.
She puts my duffel bag and backpack aside.
Removes my jacket.
My shoes.
I just stand there, letting it happen.
Like a useless shell.
“Do you need to use the bathroom?” she asks me.
I nod, not quite knowing what I am agreeing to.
I really don’t.
She shows me the door to a bathroom and walks me in.
I stand in the middle of the dark-grey tiled room.
I am exhausted.
I just sink to the floor and lie down flat on my belly, with the side of my face resting on the hard tiles. They have a slightly matte surface, which gives them a soft touch.
I just stare into nothingness until Jane lies down in front of me.
She just lies there with me.
Not touching me.
Not talking to me.
Just being with me.
At some point, her cat appears.
She brushes herself against me, rubbing her body and face against mine, purring.
It’s the first time I register something outside the pain in me.
I lift my arm and pet her.
She is as black as the void in me.
My palm caresses her soft fur.
It feels good. So good, I lift myself off the ground to sit up. She climbs on my legs and curls up into a ball.
I pet her.
And we just sit there.
Jane still lies on the floor, watching me pet her cat.
“You can get up,” I say.
“I don’t want to,” she answers, smiling weakly at me. “The floor is one of my favorite places to be.”
