I forget to exist, and what I mean when I speak of vacancies is that sometimes I’ll get lost right in front of your eyes. Adrift in a what-if of imminent adventure, terms for departure. It’s only a few seconds, a stand-still, a minute at most, where I stand quite still, staring and the story stares back, unfolding in acts of confrontation and contrition. Odysseus the domestic, delivered from fates and all I did was blink behind a conversation that never happened, another car crash, a hero’s journey. And in a few seconds I’m standing in a room where I forgot to exist, where no one knows my name.