There was something admirable about the dog, she thought. A dog wants nothing more than to be with you and to be fed. She stroked her little kitty pensively.
She’d been shopping all day, and her tiny apartment was filled with bags, big and small. It was chilly, as she looked around the room and let the silence fall over her she realized that this is not how she’d imagined 36. The phone rang. It was Brian, she clasped the receiver with both hands before saying “Hello.”
“I want to make sure that I’m OK, you know,” her voice was dim and wavering. Were there roads to redemption. “I know,” he said tracing the raindrops on his window, the sky was a sprawling gray cotton sheet. “I’m going to spend some time on my own…”
“I support the Louisiana Purchase.” Someone once made me a t-shirt that said that. It was one of my favorite things.
She looked at him sleeping, his tissue paper skin wrinkled in the creases. The gravity of all of his years, his life, filled her mind and had once overwhelmed her senses. She placed her soft, full cheeks on his chest, and her head bobbed up and down like a buoy at sea. He was dreaming of a lissome girl he’d known many years before. She could not fall to sleep.
I was thinking of my first college roommate and how we didn’t get along. I can’t even remember her name, and I am no longer sure she exists.