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Mirror*

May 2, 2009

Some mirrors show visible light and some see other waves, waves we only know about in theory. We believe those theories scientists say are true, but we also believe images we see, staring back at us from the hard, clear glass lying over silver.

We put our palms to that glass first, then to the one who reflects us, showing us all that is beautiful and authentic. We all seek that one who sees us, irrefutably us. We raise glasses to reflect joy and love to where you stand together, hands clasped.

*For Susan and Don on their wedding day…

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A lot

April 30, 2009

“Are you married?” he asked.

“No,” I replied.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked.

“No,” I replied, and this time I laughed.

“I like you,” he said. “I like you a lot.”

It was so loud in the club, so I didn’t bother to tell him any of it: that I wanted to believe him, but didn’t. It is what it is.

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Proscriptions

April 28, 2009

Down deep, there is something so strange, something so devoured, something so rotten that, on certain days, when the wind comes from a certain direction, I can smell it. I hope the others don’t notice, but rather that they continue their polite interaction, their polite embraces, their polite clinging to society and its proscriptions.

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Never lit

April 26, 2009

I want to be that angel, she thought as she leaned against the bar. The dance floor was so big, and her shoes felt too big for her feet. Instead she reached for the matchbook, ripped off the matches one by one, dipping them in a pool of condensation on the bar so they could never, ever be lit.

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Connections fading

April 24, 2009

The subject line led with “My mother” and followed with her name. She was one of my grandmother’s stalwart friends, a hard job on a good day, and though my mother is the one who has contact with her still, the thought that she might be gone caught me at the throat.

The message body revealed she was only in the hospital. “When I saw the subject line, I thought she had died,” I wrote back to my mother.

“Me too,” she said, her lack of an email sign-off telling me all I needed to know.

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Worst date of his life

April 22, 2009

“I had the worst date of my life over in those bleachers,” said the man behind me at AT&T Park. “I should have listened to her when she said she didn’t like baseball.”

“When was this?” asked his friend.

“We were both 13,” he said.

“Oh, well that’s fine, then,” his friend said. “I thought you meant it was last week or something.”

Posted in Overheard | 2 Comments »

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Perfect throw

April 18, 2009

From the roof of the parking garage, she could see directly into his office window.

“Are you sure?” asked her friend.

She nodded, the softball nestled in her palm. “No question about it,” she replied.

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