August 27, 2007
Page 30
A bra strap, in a print I didn't remember, was just visible through her collar.
She didn't move even slightly in the time it took me to take off my overcoat, undo my black necktie, and remove my wristwatch. Staring at her back called forth memories. They were from before I met her.
"Hey," I started, but it wasn't at all my voice that I heard. It was like a voice from some far-off place, making a special detour. I wasn't surprised by the lack of response.
She looked like she could be sleeping, or like she could be crying, or like she could be dead.
I sat down on the far side of the table and pressed my fingertips to my eyelids. The fresh light of the sun marked off the table. I was in the light; she was in shadow, a shadow without colors. A withered potted geranium sat atop the table. Outside the window, someone was spraying the street with water. There was the sound of an asphalt road being sprayed with water, and there was the smell of an asphalt road being sprayed with water.
"Care for some coffee?"
Nope, no answer.
After confirming the lack of response, I got up, ground coffee beans for two in the kitchen, and switched on my transistor radio.
Posted by tim at August 27, 2007 11:42 PM
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