Being alone so far means being free to drink right out of the bottle, let the trash pile up in the kitchen and the laundry linger on the floor. All the considerations you take for the people living with you fade quickly away. The ironing board is still sitting in the living room, which has turned into the ‘room to Febreeze the coats’ and store the mail. An open, empty box lies under a chair in the hallway and if the bed isn’t made, no one is there to complain but me.
I slip around the rules I’ve even set for myself. Feeling unobserved, I’m free.
Showing up tonight at the hairsalon, the Skunstripe is more than evident, dominating my hair color, a big dash of white. Two hours later, several inches less and three shades extra, I step out onto the street and head towards home. At the grocery store ahead a man reaches the door, sees me and hesitates, looking from boot tips to highlights back to eye level and smiles before disappearing inside.
As I add a bag of single serving rice to my shopping basket a voice behind me says, excuse me, and then again, louder. At my elbow, an unfamiliar face asks, if he can tell me how wonderful he thinks my outfit is, wishes me a good evening and recedes into the aisles before I summon a reply.
Bemused, I walk to the checkout counter where other single serving buyers stand in line, laying microwaveable packets and wine bottles on the conveyer belt. The sole purchase of the woman in front of me is a tiny Christmas tree, months too early. Handing my signed receipt back to the cashier, I do a double take at the chocolate he hands me with a wink. The Christmas tree woman had gotten only her change.
Not quite so unobserved after all. Not so bad.