He looked seventy, and his shoes looked older. “Can I have a bag of popcorn?” he pleaded, his neck craning over the counter. No one came.
One hand on her womb, she scrolls through for his number, pushes “Send,” then stops it before the call can register. Repeat.
She’d doll up and catch the 7:05 train to the city so that businessmen could ogle her. The return home was always lonely and full of tears.
My new friends are Josh, Sam, CJ, & Jed. We exchange witty banter for hours. They’re here when I need them with nothing more than a click.
A melancholy came over Ruth as she scanned her sparsely-attended retirement party. She finished her cake and left the building a day early.
“Please feel at home.” Cherry-blossom petals flutter in the wind. Once this was snow. Once they were mountains. Once, when they were home.