A Sink

Partly connected to my last post, I begin with: Sometimes you feel so philosophical you wish nothing more than to grapple with life's toughest issues, but sometimes your soul aches for something very simple. Today I will write simply, about a simple, little noticed topic.

My sink.

This sink is positioned in the exact middle of counter, in Sentani, in Papua, in Indonesia, in the world, in the solar system, in the Milky Way, in the universe. It's white, shallow, not very large. It has one faucet, but another empty hole that could fit another faucet. On the top of the drain stop is the word Toto, and the plug is the same color as the medium width band across the outside of the sink. To the upper left side is a bottle of push pump hand soap. Strawberry, flourescent, and gooey. Around the outside of the bottle the label repeats the images of tiny cherries, oranges, green apples, lemons, grapes, and strawberries. The bottle itself is actually imprinted with the word "Grape."

We use soap refills.

To the right of the sink is a blue plastic glass with stars set in it. It's filled about 75% full with water; this is the cup that my cat likes to drink from. When the water gets low, it's amazing how far she can squeeze her ears back and her head in to get a sip. It's also amazing how many times she can knock it over and flood the counter, dancing away with wet paws. The counter top is a strange, non descript color. Yellowy brown spotted gray, maybe. It's more attractive than those colors made it sound, but now you won't be dissappointed if you ever see it.

So that's my sink. Set on a counter level that now reaches mid-thigh on me (I'm not sure why it's so low). That is where I brushed my teeth and washed my hands for 5 years. It's a nice sink.