Monday, May 21, 2007

609 days, 23 hours, 27 minutes, 7.2 seconds

609. She can't tell you how long she's been waiting, looking forward to this day. 609, her address. 609, the area code from a childhood before there were area codes. The number seems to follow her around.

609. Take out the 0.

609. He had this address before she knew him (she married him for his apartment and his medical insurance, she used to joke). Then his insurance went downhill. Then she went downhill. Or downstairs. This building's one of the few built with all duplex apartments, even won some sort of design award. He's carefully mentioned that there might come a time when climbing the stairs every time they needed a bathroom would be too much for them. He doesn't say which one of them.

Now, half a day away from the doctor's office, she goes to take a shower, sees her towel is ripped, and just throws it out. It had been part of a monogrammed set they received as a wedding gift.