There I am
standing
in the doorway
of this auto body shop
when he drives up
in a hundred dollar suit
and opens the door for me.
There's something
familiar
and fabulous
in his eyes.
I know him
but this will take me
a few minutes.
Breathe,
step forward,
walk.

"Howdy,"
says he with a
brilliant grin.
My heart sends
my eyes
a quick flash
and doesn't die,
but dims.
"How have you been?
I haven't seen you since..."
he trails off when he
notices
the confusion
of the familiar and
the time
in my eyes.

"We used to work
together,
a while ago,"
he tells me softly.
I smile.
"Oh my gosh-
that's right!"
He opens my door
for me
and watches me get into
the van.

We drive
in the rain
weaving
in and out
of conversation.
I feel stupid.
I haven't combed my hair
I don't wear make up
and rarely spritz perfume.
I must be lame.
I have nothing to say
and I'm intimidated
by this ...
this man.
He's such a man
in that suit,
and cuter than before
but I never liked him
like that.

Suddenly,
it dawns on me-
out of nowhere
he's my driver
and I'm his passanger.
If my car hadn't been hit,
I wouldn't be in this vehicle
with him.
This must mean-
this must be-

"I had to switch jobs
because it was taking
up too much of my time
and I needed more pay
for some regular hours.
But I'm leaving work
earlier, today.
I have to pack."
"Pack?"
"I'm moving ...
to Montanta."

This had to mean-
this had to be-
but it's not.
Why
can't this
be
fate?!
 
Copyright © ninja, All Rights Reserved