Alternate Universe Where I Got What I Wanted
My toes, freezing from the cold.
They’ve once again managed to
unfurl themselves from the heavy
duvet my roommate — Jessica?
Judy? — lent me the night before.
I’ve never slept on a bed all to
myself, but all I can think is:
foreign. My body is acclimated to
heat. Sweat could slick down my
back like rivulets and I wouldn’t stir.
You could say that’s my talent. It’s a
useless one, I guess, nothing like
remembering where you come from.
Aforementioned roommate is a great
listener; eyes gaping at all the right
places: how I’m hailing from a Catholic
school that measures skirts and socks,
how I speak English naturally because it’s
my only tongue, how I’m alone in this
damn continent. It must be thrilling,
she shrieks, dragging me through the
day with unmatched vigor. Class, break,
class again. I’ve introduced myself seven
times, but it doesn’t get old. I whisper
my name to myself so I don’t forget,
just in case. Already I can feel the picture
of my parents fading, their glittery eyes
dulling. I last captured it on film, just before
we fell asleep on the same, stained mattress
we shared. They didn’t breathe, even after
the camera clicked, until I reminded them to.
Against a fogging mirror, I exhale, the dream
sliding down the sink drain like syrup, heady
enough to wake me. There are my toes, still
under the blankets despite the warmth, two
bodies lying across me. It isn’t what I want,
but I must admit it feels right, however cold.
Andrea Salvador lives somewhere in Asia, specifically a country with thousands of islands and constantly humid weather. She is an alumna of the Adroit Journal Summer Mentorship Program and the Sonorous Writing Workshop, while her work has been recognized by the Philippine Daily Inquirer, Columbia College Chicago, Trinity College - University of Melbourne, and Interlochen Arts Academy. In her spare time, she creates lists, watches sci-fi and horror movies, and rearranges her bookshelf. Find her on Twitter at @andreawhowrites.