Wednesday Night
Windows are open, fan's on, the sweet smell of jasmine drifts in from out front, while the intoxicating odor of rotting fruit rises from the backyard grasses, brown and trampled. The echoes of hours past follow me into the night. The sounds of basketballs hitting the backboard, swishing through the hoop, and bouncing on the cement. The children's frequent calls: "Dad?" "Daddy?" as they sought my help with math homework, permission to snack before dinner, or where to find clean clothes. (Hint: check the dryer before asking Dad.)
Oliver lazes on the bench out back, and shakes his tag at me. He loves to visit. Mary knows of two kittens I could adopt and I'm sorely tempted to do so, but fear I'm not home enough to be a good pet-owner.
After all, I even failed to grow any pumpkins! The vine may be big, but the fruit is dead. This is not a good sign about my current capacity to be in a relationship, according to C.W. (Conventional Wisdom.) Plus, my only pet, Sparkie the Hamster, died this past winter.
These things hit me hard.
So, for now, no cat for me.
***
Is it okay to have a commuter crush? This morning, I flowed southward on 101 next to that pretty Asian girl in the orange Mini. She gets on at my entrance and gets off at my exit. She parks in my lot and enters my building. We've never met, but I enjoy commuting alongside of her, when it happens.
Probably if I ever met her, she'd turn out to be a man-eating dragon who is wanted for a string of felonies in six states. But that would be fine as long as I never knew what hit me.
-30-
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