Soliloquies Anthology 24.2

Fayette Fox

“It was really well-designed,” I gazed into my empty soup bowl.

For several nights after work, I experimented with different relaxation spots. When I didn’t have company over, I had typically sat in the white recliner. With it gone, I tried my couch. I sat on both ends and in the middle. I lay down, stretching my body across all three cushions. It was nice, but it wasn’t my recliner. I tried reading my mystery at the kitchen table, on the steps, and in bed. The couch was by far the best option. Reading in bed just made me sleepy.

I thought about getting a new recliner, but my brother was right. It had been pretty pricey. I wasn’t quite ready to drop another $800 on a chair. I considered rearranging the living room furniture to obliterate the empty spot created by the recliner’s absence. But I needed help to move the couch so I hadn’t gotten around to it yet. It reminded me of when the apple tree in my backyard fell over suddenly, from some hidden blight in the trunk’s hollowed out core. It was surprising because the tree seemed so healthy. The leaves were lush and it was a prolific producer of apples. I called a landscaper with a chainsaw to haul it away. The empty spot in my yard was almost unbearable. Until, I got used to it.

Then one morning, about a week after the white recliner vanished, a new recliner appeared in its place. I noticed as soon as I came down for breakfast. I stared at the chair.

It was large and comfortable-looking with cracked, brown, faux-leather. I circled it and sat down. I touched the spot in the seat where stuffing was coming out. My old housemate Nora always said she’d fix it but had never gotten around it.

Her dog, Tatter loved pawing and pulling at the fluff.

I made myself oatmeal with bartlett pear, dates, and chopped walnuts. I ate sitting in the old recliner. The chair enveloped me. When Nora and I first found the chair on the street, we 68 A