Three Lives

She walked off the metro stuffed in black down coat, black boots and a hat. She pulled out her smart trip card, swiped it on the scanner of the turnstile and walked on through. She put on her gloves as she walked and began to climb the extra deep escalator stairs passing the people who chose to stand. The cold had calmed down, it did that a lot at night, feeling warmer than the morning walk to work. She slipped on to the sidewalk and headed home.

The walk finally allowed her time to her own thoughts, to her own self, she thought of her two other lives, her secret lives, the ones you couldn’t see if you spied on her everyday, watching her on her walk to work and home. Her second life, was the one no one could touch, the one that only had space for one, where her heart and light sit, where her ideas dance and contract, her internal odyssey, her personal creative playground, her endless curiosity. Her third life was one she had infrequent but intense contact with, it was adventurous and daring, vulnerable and satisfying, unknown and serendipitous. It was her escapade with him. She carried these two lives inside her, walked around with them, pulled them out when she had a break, smiled and cried with them, put them back inside and went on.

She pulled the keys from her bag and unlocked the door. She couldn't avoid thinking about her sister. But she couldn't really come to any terms with the situation now, she was spent, tired, worthless at the end of the day. The building was warm, heavy warm, uncomfortable for her face that was just getting used to the 20 degrees outside. She opened the door, turned on the soft floor lamp, hung up her coat. She walked into her bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed, unzipped her boots, and paused. She looked up at the wall, her drawers at eye level, the soft light of the lamp felt like winter light. It was another end to another day, full of stress and excitement, full of bad news and reasons to smile, just full, the days were just full. In the silence of her little private space, her apartment, she finally escaped all the responsibility to simply recognize the immensity.

She placed her boots in the corner of the room and took of her clothes, put on her pajamas and put everything away. She walked barefoot on the relaxing wood floor. She poured a glass of water and stood in the middle of the kitchen. It was all indulgent, the moments of quiet escape, isolation, her sanctuary. She called her sister, turned off her living room lamp and retired to her bedroom to read the novel he bought her, that she reads slowly so that it doesn't end too quickly.