One week after
I left, I lay down
on the floor
on a borrowed futon cushion
in my new apartment
in a building that used
to be a paper factory
there were no sheets on my bed
there were no dishes in the kitchen
there were no curtains on the windows
there were no books on the shelves
there were no shelves
there were no lamps
what was there
was a blue candle
with three wicks
in a wide-mouthed jar
and a goldfish named Cal,
because I loved Cal Ripken,
baseball hero with eyes like ice
and a whole lotta heart
that night,
after work
after running up
the building’s stairs
after blowing out
each wick, I lay
on the floor
in the dark
and when the demons arrived,
as expected, right on time,
I closed my eyes
and listened
to Cal, sorting through
the gravel in his bowl,
sucking up each pebble
and spitting it out
plink…plink…plink
and was glad for the company
(c) 2017, by Hannah Six
Image: Bowl of Goldfish, by Childe Hassam, 1912
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