Moving Out

The family left.

It was 4:30 and I woke to see them off, the taste of exhaustion in my throat. They hugged and kissed me and wished me good luck; they told me I’d be fine. I wasn’t worried. Looking around at the beautiful pre-dawn morning, I wondered if anyone wouldn’t be fine here.

Tequila and I watched them go. Back to the familiar ebb and flow of Chez Michel: Families come, tear apart the kitchen, rearrange the dishes, set different rules on laundry and showers and locking up. When their vacation is over, they leave, and another family comes in with different ways. And we remain, adapting to each culture.

When we could no longer hear their tires on the gravel driveway, I felt sick to my stomach. I went back to bed and dreamt of the adventures that await me.