The table suddenly slips, warping into a muddy bend. Flecks in the linoleum melt, a grey river swallowing my coffee mug like quicksand. I reach for a knife and the metal seems wet but I can’t imagine how that happened. Suddenly everything feels wet and rain falling against the window starts to seep through the glass, puddles dripping onto our plastic booth.
Tonight we’re fighting so I squeeze out every drop from every bottle of soap while I shower. Bright pinks and blues run together in a river between my feet. Glue at the drain. Bubbles lick my heels in frothy swells.