vaneramos | Frosty mornings

Beyond the bathroom window in grey light, the row of used cars sports first frost.

Standing in the kitchen, I crave the magic cornucopia that will cleanse my body and soul. I pour a small glass of guava juice, spilling some on the counter. The taste refreshes, but falls short of fabulous.

A warm shower enfolds me, reminding me how good it feels on a chilly morning. The dark, wet lover has returned.

Back in my room, I notice my overalls hanging empty from the corner of the bunk, the same place they have hung since May. I wore them every day last winter when my guts were torn apart. They demanded less of my body than other clothes. They let me feel sexy despite the colostomy.

Now, on a whim, I pull them back on. Gently, snugly, they hold my healed abdomen.