Page of Breath

Sweeping is an act of breath. More than pushing around little specks of dirt, it's about a steady control of airflow with the broom, with your steps around the floor, with your breathing, with careful direction of the wind to convince all the hairs and feathers and particles of clothing to gather in clumps big enough to sink to the ground in an orderly pile in the middle of the room. When you're not careful with the vacuum, they spray everywhere and you have to start over.

My throat feels scratchy and my neck swells as I breathe in the stirred up wastes of a dog, two colds, months of living out of down jackets, dinner parties, and the consequences of living a life. Soon, we will take the plastic off the windows and be able to mop again.

16 March 2014 22:16