i will remember her:
walking toward the door, alert: ‘i’ll be right back.’ wouldn’t tell me where she was going, wouldn’t let me come. she housed a whirlwind in her body, the weather vane’s swing could have been caused by anything. alone, i waited for her return, anxious. in fifteen minutes she was back, a half-moon half-sad smile. ‘the food store was closed,’ she said, ‘no brownie mix.’ she’d been trying to surprise me. the relief and the intent was so sweet.
