The Return Address

Anouk unlocked her room on the fourth of May and found the yellow blanket exactly where she’d left it. Nobody had made a shrine of her absence. A little dust lay on the desk. The cupboard hook held nothing. The room waited without performing.

She set down the suitcase and stood in the middle of it, smiling.

The journey had gone as planned. She had sent Orson a message from the station saying she wanted to put her things down first and would come to his at six. He had replied that he would be there. No surprise arrival, no test of whether he could abandon everything when she appeared. A return they had both made room for.

She opened the window. The back gardens smelled of cut grass and damp earth. Somewhere a radio played, then stopped. It was different from the street she’d left that morning. She liked…