What Drowns, What Floats

The fox came at twilight, thin as rust, drinking from the pool where our daughter used to swim. I watched from the kitchen window, wine glass sweating in my hand, while Mark shuffled through the living room like something that had forgotten how to die.

We were zombies now. Not the groaning kind from movies—we ate brains, we just didn't use them anymore. Three years of marriage had hollowed us out, leaving behind two bodies performing the rituals of intimacy without the spirit that once made them sacred.

"Is that a fox?" Mark asked, not really asking. He'd stopped asking questions when he stopped listening for answers.

"It's drinking the water," I said. "The pool's green anyway."

The pool. Our daughter was gone two years now—drowned in March, when the water was still cold enough to shock your breath away. We'd never drained it. Some days I thought about climbing in and letting the algae claim me too.

Our cat, Buster, appeared at my feet, mewing for the dinner I'd forgotten to put down. He was the only thing that still needed anything from either of us. I watched him rub against Mark's leg, received with the same dull acknowledgment Mark gave everything now: the mortgage, his job, me.

"I saw a dog today," Mark said suddenly. "At the park. A golden retriever. Remember when we talked about getting one?"

"We talked about a lot of things."

The fox lifted its head, eyes catching the last light, amber and wild and utterly alive. It saw me watching. For a moment, I felt seen by something that hadn't given up.

"I'm leaving," I said, the words floating in the thick silence.

Mark turned slowly, like machinery rusted into place. "What?"

"This house. This life. I can't be dead while I'm still breathing."

The fox vanished into the woods. Buster wound between my ankles, purring like a small engine. Outside, the pool water caught the moon, dark and still.

"Okay," Mark said, and something flickered behind his eyes—fear or relief, I couldn't tell.

I set down my wine. For the first time in years, I wanted to see what would happen if I actually moved toward something instead of waiting to drown.