The bush rustles. We stop talking, watch the space, and a mouse announces itself. Rests on a leaf of the bush and looks at us. Turns his tiny head towards me. I say, you alright? Turns to you, you slowly raise your phone and take a picture. After checking us out, goes back into the bush. We marvel at this mouse for a few minutes, wondering if we managed to carve out a moment of peace so quiet this mouse felt comfortable to reveal themselves.
Your lunch break has run up. I walk you back to work and we share a kiss before you go through the doors. Lips cushion, eyes closed. It’s one second, feels slower. You move away, watch me wobble as I step back from you, borderline punch-drunk. I watch you swipe your card to get back into the office and go back to the same spot in Bryant Park. Stare at the bush and wonder if the mouse is still there.
“Mouse”
No response.
“Mouse. Did you see that?”
No response.
The sun shining through the trees has given leopard spots to the streets. I’m decorated in light and shadow. In the middle of Midtown and I don’t need music. At peace, sat down. I feel more in tune with the trees above my head than I do with the people around me. The branches sway towards and away from each other in the same manner we did after our kiss; perpetually, stuck in the dizziness. Breeze comes. Sunlight bursts through an opening of leaves like a winger running for a through ball, and bounces off my watch. Hits my eyes. I check twice, and remember why I’m six hours ahead. A reminder to stay rooted. When I arrived three weeks ago, the pilot recommended we turn our watches to New York time. I couldn’t help but think “Why don’t you just worry about landing the plane, mate”
Each tick brings me closer to where I’d be if I was home right now; post-supper rush hour, washing dishes in a messy kitchen, the sweat and condensation mixing together. Finding a sensation in the hot water burning patches of eczema dotted around my arm.
We’ve got a date tonight. I’ve only got a week left here. We’re trying to figure out if this is something. I know it’s something because as I was getting into your Uber last night you kissed me so hard my brain did a factory reset and my arm repeated it’s reach for the door handle like twitching kicks of a half-eaten antelope. I know it’s something because I got lost watching you sleep the morning after like you were the dvd screensaver. The longer I stared the more your face became the whole world and looking anywhere else became a waste of time. The rest of the world felt like a waste of space.
“Mouse, is this something, or am I going mad”
No response.
Mouse is gone.
I turn my watch back. This is where I am now.