There were tears in her eyes when she awakened. He wiped them away and said, “The surgery went fine. We will be fine.” She closed her eyes as he wiped away more tears.
Sally slid onto the bench, near a man eating chocolate pudding. The DVD, “White Noise” exited her bag. “Good taste,” he said. “Likewise with you,” she replied. “Would you care to join me?”
Friend of my guy, we bickered. Guy was my ex, he comforted. Interest piqued, but dating her. Years wasted, dead ends and denial, now perfectly clear. Timed impeccably, at last we are us.
The baby died. He spoke the words again, and again, so she didn't have to. He kept them from her mouth and filled it instead with ice cream. He held her and wept.
Marble-heavy legs in stirrups, and a mirror to the left. Lights
dimmed, a hand on my shoulder as masked strangers hover. Another
push. A head is reflected. It waits while I weep.