evening.
Rachel walking toward the living room.
Brenda lifting her chilled wine.
David laughing beside the sofa.
My hands holding someone else’s greasy dishes.
For once, I didn’t wonder whether leaving would upset anyone.
I only asked whether I wanted to stay.
The answer was no.
So I dried my hands.
Put on my coat.
And walked out.
Everything afterward looked dramatic to people who had benefited from my compliance.
To me, it was simple.
I stopped writing checks I didn’t owe.
I stopped offering time nobody requested respectfully.
I
