The oddly courageous eyes stared into mine unflinchingly. Knowingly, confidently, but also secretly, we play this Russian roulette with numbers, shooting at each other with guesses. I got her numbers first, then she, mine.
Walking along the river, she said — “I like fish”. I talked about the world collapsing, imploding into its own. She said — “I like fish”. I talked about the nutrition and what best way to survive. She said — “I like fish”.
As we walked under the bridge, she said — “water”. It is funny how it sounds —“water” — like it is waving at you. I noticed her white shoes’ tip point soaked in mud. Her right calf covered in dark black blots. Even onto tip of her white dress. I feel sweat dripping over my forehead but I cannot say anything for too long. I march on, marching on this path that has gotten cruelly too long.
Awkward bug turns into a handshake — and you know the drill — turn around and walk away with as neutral fade as possible and restrain that urge to mutter “shit!” to yourself. Yes, she has a work — laundry — exam to do and she won’t call back. Yes, it was a headshot and clean one at that.
It will heal, and yes, she likes fish. So let these eyes rest and best serve for another day.
9.9.2021
Ralph with Coffee 