Thursday, April 21, 2022

Hair brush May 11, 2012

  

She canceled the dinner arrangement I made the day before yesterday, perpetually hot and cold running something I haven’t completely sorted out, texting a short time later to ask if I was mad, calling when I texted back, “no, only disappointed,” she saying she was weary and needed rest, texting me later again while I was on the road about joining me in south Hudson, her mother always claiming it was always a swamp, she needing to see it for herself, stirring up the idea of dinner again, yet not saying where or precisely when. Still later, when I pressed for a definitive answer, she canceled.

The text saying “hi” on my way home did not surprise me. At home I said seeing me or not seeing me was in her discretion. She replied, “Don’t leave it all on me.”

In the middle of the night, she texted to tell me she’d tried to use the handle of a brush to get herself off; it had made her bleed.

In the morning, she texted telling me I ought to have come over because she’d needed a man, not a hair brush.


email to Al Sullivan


No comments:

Post a Comment