Category: story time

Those two over there, yeah, the table in the corner right there. Before you got here he said: “Are you more of a wine girl or, uh, martinis? I’m not much of a wine guy but I’d maybe go for a pinot grigio.” The waitress has come by their table three times already. Oh, no, […]

Part 4 of 4. It’s finally over. If you want, here’s the rest: part 1, part 2, and, of course, part 3. I don’t much like how this ends but so it goes. He has written a note and left it on the table. The window, now closed and locked, is doing its time-weary best […]

Part 3 of 4. Read part 1 and/or part 2. Or just tell your friends you did. She sits at the small square table by the half-open window, now in his chair, trying to feel his angle, again wearing the white sun dress but now with gray wool leggings below and a crimson cardigan unbuttoned […]

Part 2 of 4. Read part 1 here. Or else. She sits in her chair at the same small square table by the same open window, a sultry, hazy sky beyond, air like bath water in both hue and temperature and stillness, air soaked up by the same hills and trees, same curtains, same oxalis, same […]

This is the first of a four-part storyish kind of thing. Trying something a little new here—well, the story’s old, or the idea for it anyway, but I’m sharing it anew. It is morning, spring, and he sits by the open window at the small, square table covered in a light linen tablecloth with trim […]

This story is not about to be recited, only retold. I just want you to know I’m sticking to the rules. We’re all grown folks here and what do grown folks do if not retell.

I sat there in my train seat with the book open on my lap hoping he wouldn’t look over and see what I was reading. That was years ago.