what isn't there

the door opens

i pause—

garage door squeaking shut

refrigerator humming

A/C running

.

quiet.

.

.

flipping through TV channels

my hand reaches across the couch

.

the cushion keeps its shape.

.

.

making a sandwich

i tear off the corner of the cheese

.

i look down

.

hold it

a little too long.

.

.

summer day

car ride, windows down, music loud

.

the backseat is clean.

.

.

lights out

.

i listen for—

nothing.

.

.

towel

bed

blanket

brush

clippers

five stuffed animals

.

the collar.

.

.

a camera

watching an empty room

day after day.

.

cancel autoship.

.