The boy across from me on the shuttle drops his backpack. My
gaze drops down and stops at his crotch. I try not to imagine- and quickly,
studiously, stare out the window above his head.
I almost can’t find my keys before I leave the shuttle. They’re
in a different pocket in my purse.
The plant the lizard lives in has been moved so that my
front door could be painted a hideous shade of blue. I even like blue, mostly. I move the plant back.
I almost can’t find my keys before I take the dog out. They’re
in a different spot on the counter.
No comments:
Post a Comment