where's my towel?

for the second time

in less than a

week there was

no towel waiting

for me when

i got out of

the shower.



why?

because i left the

damn thing hanging

on the door knob

in my bedroom.

first instinct,

still,

13+ months after

she

died was to yell,

“hey liz! can you please bring me a towel?”

fuck.

when does that

go away?

the fact that

i left my towels

all over the house

really used

to piss

liz

off, and i can

still here yelling

from the other room,

“no. sorry! you’ll have to air-dry! this is what happens when you don’t return your towel to the bathroom after your shower.”

she always ended

up bringing me

a towel, but

she always made

me suffer before

doing so.

…

instead of

getting a towel

delivered to me

by my wife,

i shook

myself like a

wet dog,

and made my

way to the linen

closet where i

found a towel.