I’m a little nervous about

I’m a little nervous about introducing them. Who know if they will say something inappropriate? They are conservatives, after all. They may not “get it.”

On the other hand, I’m more than a little nervous about the people he meets in his everyday life. They might do more to harm him than merely make unenlightened statements.

I’m just nervous, period.

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Hurry

It took everything I had to be patient with her, not to hurry her along. It wouldn’t have done much good to urge her to keep up, because she couldn’t have done it. So I reset my eager, impatient brain. I went at her pace. We chatted along the way, and we got where we were going. What was my hurry, anyway?

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A Bumpy Night

“Fasten your seat belts. It’s going to be a bumpy night.” He grinned at me and started up the stairs with a flourish of his hips.

I couldn’t remember the correct comeback. I wasn’t in the mood to play his games anyway. I hurried to the kitchen and grabbed the good bottle of Scotch – the one hidden way in the back of the cabinet. I plunked it on the table, grabbed a glass, and sat down to consider our options.

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Favorites

Keeping warm.

Oh, yes, she knew all his favorites. Favorite dinner. Favorite dessert. Favorite sweater. Favorite Netflix movie. Favorite brand of beer. Favorite spot for the coffee cup. She knew all those things and gave him all those things. It wasn’t enough. He still beat her.

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Bunch

I peered through a bunch of kids, mostly boys. They swooped by on skateboards, they sat on benches to talk, they glanced furtively at the adult invading their domain. I couldn’t see him. I looked in every direction.

A good-looking blond boy separated from the others. He ambled my way. “Can I help you?” he asked.

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Seat Belt

She fell heavily into the passenger seat. The car was boiling hot so she left the door open for a minute to cool things down. She hooked her seat belt and leaned out to close the door.

The seat belt grabbed her and she couldn’t reach the door. She turned to her daughter, who had picked her up at the emergency room. “Typical,” she said. She unhooked, then closed, then hooked. “Take me home,” she said.

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I Forgot

I forgot the soothing sound of your voice. I forgot the soft curls in your hair. I forgot the smooth silk of your forearms. I forgot the little mole under your right earlobe. I forgot the exact color of your eyes when the sky is blue behind you. I forgot the bright crescent of your smile in the dark oval of your face. It’s easy to go on because I forgot everything about you.

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With a K

The street Malcolm searched for should have been spelled with a K. He would never get used to Slavic language phonetics. He found the oddly spelled street in question. It was many more blocks of walking to locate the correct number. He stood outside the door for a long time. His threadbare coat was barely adequate for the cold. It began to snow. Finally, he knocked. The man who opened the door looked . . .

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Summer Holidays

Fireworks 3

Our first summer,
Do you remember that one?
We lived down by the river
And caught fish for the 4th?
Remember that old tub
We filled with ice and watermelon?
We put a blanket on the grass
And watched the fireworks.
We chased grasshoppers in
The weeds behind the house.
When everyone was gone and
The night was quiet
We lay on the blanket all night long,
Just the two of us
In love.

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No Loitering

Jan parted the curtains a tiny slit and looked at the man in the hoodie. He stood under a No Loitering sign on a street light pole. It was his 3rd day standing in that spot. She appreciated the irony.

Jan tested him yesterday by walking to the bodega. He followed.

Today she had other plans. She locked her door and headed for the roof.

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