Everything in my father’s house is soft and plushy and warm. There are blankets that feel like teddy bear fur draped over every couch and chair. The thermostat is set to the temperature of the human body. The lightbulbs are soft and pale.
When I step out of the shower my feet touch a microfiber pad. When I go to sleep I rest my head on a microfiber pillowcase. When I wash my clothes I must decide between three different types of fabric softener.
In the garage there are metal racks stocked with food. There is a freezer crammed with frozen meat. There are a dozen enormous plastic bottles containing hundreds of gallons of clean drinking water. There are enough boxes of popcorn and cans of vegetables to last you the rest of your life.
The cooking oil is in an aerosol can. The towels all smell like mountain flowers. When I want a cup of coffee, I push a button.
All the little details of my life have always felt so difficult. Here the decisions are made for me. It is nice for right now.