Far Far Away

She stepped into the dark room and went straight to the sink to rinse off her hands. The smell of the dinner, the scattering flu viruses, all the hand shakes, all washed down the drain. She then put down her purse and turned on the lights.

The room was set how she had left it. Her laptop still plugged in. Some cloths neatly left on the chair.  Her book by the bed stand.  She connected her iPhone to the laptop, get it charged and synced. She laid her jacket on the bed and sat on the chair by the window; the night and the city underneath her gaze. The cars. The lights. The reflections on the river not too far away. The noises of the city at night. Her gaze flying over the buildings. Back to the river reflecting the bridge lights.

She took out her heels and suit; put on sweatpants and jacket and sneakers; grabbed the room key and iPhone and earphones and walked out the room. She head to the bridge, jogging along the sidewalk.

It was long ago she was there at the bottom of that bridge with him. Deep in the night. Feeling assured and secured. She was there again, deep in the night, feeling secured and assured. Albeit in a totally different sense. She was there but far far away from then.