things that disappear without announcement

The chai stall outside the office building was there on a Wednesday and gone by Thursday. No notice. The spot is just a bit of pavement again. The chai vendor at the corner before my old flat, who had been there since I moved in, went at some point during the monsoon. I didn't notice immediately. I missed him for about a week before I realized I'd been missing him for a week. A particular table at a restaurant I went to often — not a specific table, just the arrangement, the way the tables sat near the window with that particular gap — was rearranged one day and the restaurant became a different restaurant. My upstairs neighbor moved out without my registering it. It was two weeks before I noticed the footsteps were different. There's a new set of footsteps now. Lighter, more tentative. Still learning the flat. None of these things are losses exactly. But they accumulate into something, all these small arrivals and departures that ask for no acknowledgement.