Breaking In

Home after midnight. Forgot the keys. Took the train to get drunk on two martinis. Ring the door bell and hear the dog bark. Walk around to the bathroom window. Jeans fit too tight, can’t get leverage to lift onto the sill. Loop around to the living room, which sits sunken to the sidewalk. Pry off the window screen, drop it, bend the frame. Window’s already high up as it can go. Slip my left leg through, bend at the hips, slip my head underneath and scrape my back against the wood, trip over the plants. Unlock the door. Fix the screen. Shower. Sleep. Dream of all the ways the neighbors watched this ritual of humiliation.

No. 060