short narratives of the heart, circa 2008

“Where is my ‘boogie woogie’ partner?”

“I’m coming,” I wrote, speeding up my walk until I was standing in front of the old, familiar destination; that old brick house with people spilling out of its fissures.

Red cups littered the trampled grass and muffled bass notes came from somewhere underground. Blurred faces were scattered across the green, cigarettes in hand. Familiar facades and their arms engulfed my jittery spirit and then it was him with a hello hug. I held onto his arm as he led me inside amidst the rhythm of people. I waved off a drink, surrendering to the swallows flying around the inside of my stomach. It was a strange thing to desire something totally different and hope that the rest of the world didn’t think a thing had changed.


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